
\o 

nn; 

* 7 .. 


FT MEADE 
GenCol1 





















COPYRIGHT D 












WILD AMERICANS 


























IpF 













in? 


WILD AMERICANS 


By 

OREN ARNOLD 

I* 

Author of 

Wonders of the West 
Wild Life in the Southwest, etc . 



Illustrated with Photographs 


JUNIOR PRESS BOOKS 

albertXwh itman 
4co 

CHICAGO 

1937 


Copyright, 1937, by Albert Whitman & Company 




Printed in the U. S. A. 


SEP 22 1937 


0 ^ 


A 


109540 




Dedicated 
with love to 
Rosemary 

my very little daughter 
who is herself something of a 
Wild American 








A C K N O W L EDGMENTS 

Many of the finest wild life photographs ever made are included in 
this book, and where source is known grateful acknowledgment for 
them is hereby given: 

To E. D. Newcomer of Phoenix, Arizona, for the Gila monster and 
cactus on page 86; to W. M. Tillery of Phoenix and Denver for the 
grizzly bear on page 121, also for many personal helps to the author 
in making the general selection; to Jack Tooker of Grand Canyon, 
Arizona, for the bison on page 113 and the twin fawns on page 13; 
to Lewis W. Walker of San Diego, Calif., for the jackrabbit on page 
57, also for the bobkitten on page 149 and the bobcat on page 153; to 
Charles J. Belden of Pitchfork, Wyoming, for the coyote on the half- 
title page and the coyote on page 70; to Natt N. Dodge of Grand 
Canyon, Arizona, for the squirrel on page 133; to L. A. Wilke of El 
Paso, Texas, for the jackrabbit on page 62. 

To the National Association of Audubon Societies for the photo¬ 
graph by Howard Cleaves of the opossum on page 159 and of the 
opossum family on page 154; to Nature Magazine for the pocket go¬ 
pher on page 24, the grizzly bear on page 121, and the pack rat photo¬ 
graph on page 41 by H. S. Davis; to Acme Newspictures for the 
mountain lion on copyright page and on page 45; to the Field Museum 
of Natural History for the beavers on page 107; to Frashers, Inc., of 
Pomona, Calif., for the bobcat on page 144, the buck on page 9, and 
the fawn on page 16; to Pictures, Inc., for the coyote pups on page 
65; to the Union Pacific Railroad for the brown bear facing page 9; 
to the American Museum of Natural History for the squirrel on page 
131, the bison group on page 120, and the grizzly bear on page 130; to 
Brownell Photos for the bald eagle facing page 98; to Underwood and 
Underwood for the young bald eages on page 97; to the National 
Park Service for the bighorn sheep on page 71; to the Department of 
the Interior for the bighorn sheep on page 79; to the U. S. Forest 
Service for the beaver on page 105, the coyote on page 63, the deer 
on page 17, and the deer on page 11 by A. G. Hamel; to the U. S. 
Bureau of Biological Survey for the wolverene on page 139, the 
skunks on page 80, the pack rat on page 36, the pocket gopher on the 
title page, the pocket gopher on page 27, and the grasshopper sketches 
on pages 30 and 35. 

Specific warning against copying any of the pictures, in direct vio¬ 
lation of federal law, is hereby given. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The Deer: A Tan Beauty. 9 

The Armadillo: An Armored Creature. 18 

The Gopher: An Animal with Pockets. 24 

The Grasshopper: A Flying Pest. 30 

The Pack Rat: The Trader. 36 

The Panther: A Lassoed Lion. 42 

The Horned Lizard: A Tiny Reptile. 51 

The Jack Rabbit: A Long'Eared Jumper. 57 

The Coyote: A Wild Dog. 63 

The Rocky Mountain Bighorn: 

A Bold Mountaineer. 71 

The Skunk: A Fearless Enemy. 80 

The Gila Monster: An Arizona Stranger. 86 

The Pelican and the Gulls: A Strange Rivalry.... 91 

The Eagle: Majestic Sky King. 97 

The Beaver: Chief Gnawer.105 

The Wild Bison: A Former Westerner.113 

The Bear: Monarch of the Wild.121 

The Squirrel: A Friendly Robber.131 

The Wolverene: A Mean Northerner.139 

The Lynx: A Wilderness Cat.144 

The Opossum: A Night'Roaming Animal.154 


























* ~> * J 













































































































Chapter I 

THE DEER: A Tan Beauty 

we’ll have to be very quiet now,” 
\ Uncle Ely Blair whispered. “Just hide here 
in the soft grass and peep out. The wind’s 
right, so they won’t catch a whiff of us, if they do 
come.” 

Buck and Ginger Blair said not a word. They sat 
still. Through the tall stems of grass and weeds they 
could look down at the pool of water, not three hum 
dred feet away. It was the only water within many 
miles, they knew, and here at sunrise Uncle Ely had 
promised that “something might happen.” 




10 


WILD AMERICANS 


Many things had already happened to Billy Buck 
and Mary Virginia Blair (nicknamed Ginger) since 
they left their home in the East. Uncle Ely, Father’s 
bachelor brother, who lived on a ranch in Texas, was 
taking the family on a long automobile tour. They 
lived in a shiny new trailer. Uncle Ely loved the 
outdoors, especially its animals, which he called 
“wild Americans.” 

This morning they were in western Texas. The 
grass was dry and tall and it tickled Virginia’s nose, 
so that she thought she would have to sneeze. Some' 
how she knew that wouldn’t be a wise thing to do. 
Suddenly Billy Buck grabbed her arm. 

“Sh'h'h'h!” warned Uncle Ely. 

Over the top of the shrubs and brush that lined 
the trail to the water hole, they saw something 
strange. The brush was rattling and waving, and 
above it appeared a great set of animal horns, 
branched like the limbs of a tree. 

“Look—antlers!” whispered Uncle Ely. 

“What are antlers?” Ginger whispered back. 

Buck answered her. As big brothers do, he want' 
ed to show her that he knew. 

“They’re horns,” he whispered. “Deer horns. I’ve 
seen pictures of them.” 



“That’s right,” said Uncle Ely. 


One scrubby oak tree near the water hole had be- 
gun to turn a little brown. A few of its leaves had 
red tints, for autumn was approaching. 

Suddenly, through the leaves of this tree, came the 
antlers. A huge buck deer thrust his head out and 
looked at the water. He was still for a few seconds, 
then he stepped out in full view. 

What a picture he made! 

Buck and Ginger held their breath, not daring even 
to whisper. Here was a real, live, wild deer, one of 
the finest of American animals. They knew he would 
be afraid of them, and would instantly dash away if 



12 


WILD AMERICANS 


he should catch their scent. That was why Uncle Ely 
had stationed them where the wind would not take 
the man-odor toward the water hole. 

However, the buck waited cautiously before drink¬ 
ing. He lifted his head to scent the air delicately, thus 
making sure that no enemy was near enough to spring 
on him without warning. 

Next he made a motion with his short bushy tail, 
shook his head and moved toward the water. Then 
came another surprise to the children. 

Behind him in the brush appeared three beautiful 
does—female deer. They had remained out of sight 
until the male made sure that no enemy was near the 
water. When he signaled them with a snort and a 
wave of his tail, they came out of hiding. 

The big fellow took a quick drink, then jumped 
nimbly onto the stream bank and looked all around. 
While each doe drank her fill, he stood guard, look¬ 
ing, sniffing. His great antlers were beautiful indeed. 

'Took, there are six points on each side of his 
homsf 1 whispered Uncle Ely. "That makes twelve 
in all. A twelve-point buck! That’s a mighty fine 
animal.” 

Couldn t we shoot him, if we had brought that 
big rifle of Dad s?” the boy whispered. 






. ’smmm 
























































' 




































■ 






































































































































r* 




















































































































































* 






















« 














































































































































































THE DEER 


15 


“Yes. But it wouldn’t be any fun. We don’t need 
his meat or his skin. Why kill a beautiful creature 
without reason?’’ 

They watched the animals for several minutes. 
The deer did not suspect that they were being 
watched at first; but then the wind must have 
changed. All at once the four beasts lifted their noses, 
poised for just an instant, and then bounded away. 
It all happened so quickly that Ginger said afterward 
she could hardly see them go. Uncle Ely and the chib 
dren then started back to the highway, for they were 
hungry for breakfast. Mother greeted them from the 
trailer. 

“It was better than a zoo, Mother!’’ exclaimed 
Buck. “The deer were wild, and one had antlers. He 
is called a buck, and he was grand! I’m glad the boys 
call me Buck, now. He was leader of the—’’ 

“Yes, and Mother,” Ginger interrupted, “on the 
ride back Uncle Ely told us all about wild deer. The 
baby deer are called fawns, and they are spotted, and 
they—” 

The boy and girl told all that they could remem' 
ber of Uncle Ely’s chat and he kindly corrected them 
in a few places where they made mistakes. Here are 
some of the things that Buck and Ginger learned. 



All male deer grow antlers, and shed them once a 
year. All deer are ruminants, which means that they 
swallow their food hastily, then later return it to their 
mouths for chewing. Deer run very fast, and are 
good jumpers, too. Bucks fight with their antlers to 
determine which shall be the master of the does. 
They fight enemies, such as lions, with their antlers 
and hoofs. Baby deer, called fawns, are spotted tan 
and white. This is called protective coloring, because 
enemies cannot easily see them hidden in the brush, 
leaves, and shadows. Man is the worst enemy of 
deer. He kills many of them needlessly. A natural 
enemy is the big mountain lion or panther, which 
kills many deer. There are several kinds of deer, in- 


THE DEER 


17 


eluding those called the white tail, the mule deer, the 
elk, and even the moose. 

When breakfast was over Virginia and Buck asked 
Uncle Ely dozens of questions. Finally Ginger asked, 
“Will we see any more wild Americans, Uncle Ely? 
I mean, any more as pretty as the tan beauties?” 

Uncle Ely smiled at her. 

“Tan beauties! That's a good name for them,” he 
said. “Yes, we shall see many others. None will be 
more beautiful than the deer, but some will be even 
more interesting. I promise you that this will be an 
adventure tour.” 


“Oh, good!” exclaimed Buck. “Adventures!” 



Chapter II 

THE ARMADILLO: An Armored Creature 
Early one morning Uncle Ely Blair called to the 
children, “Do you know what armor is?” 

“Oh, yes!” Billy Buck answered. “The knights of 
old wore armor—queer-looking iron suits, like shells, 
that covered even the men's heads.” 

“That's right,” said Uncle Ely. “A kind of shell, 
to keep the person inside from being hurt by enemies. 
Now, on our hike today, I hope to show you a little 
fellow wearing armor. He is no bigger than a pig. 
In fact, he looks very much like a pig.” 

Ginger looked at Uncle Ely in surprise. 


18 


THE ARMADILLO 


19 


“Why, Uncle Ely!' 1 she exclaimed, “how can a lit¬ 
tle man in an armor look like a pig?" 

Uncle Ely laughed heartily. “I didn't mean that; 
I meant to say that I am going to show you a little 
animal which lives in a hard shell. He makes us think 
of the armored soldiers of long ago. But come on, 
I'll show you." 

Ginger and Buck and Uncle Ely started walking 
into the scrubby trees and grass, away from any road 
or house. They had walked for several minutes be- 
fore they saw any animal; only birds circled above 
them. Presently Uncle Ely said, “Now look care¬ 
fully. Near here I saw several armored fellows not 
long ago. I think they have a den close by." 

The three walked in a big circle, kicking in the 
grass and in piles of dead limbs and leaves, but they 
found nothing at first. After a while, Billy Buck ran 
off to one side and suddenly called, “Uncle Ely, come 
here, please! I have found a strange-looking ball. It 
is almost as large as a basketball, like the one we have 
at school." 

“A ball?" cried Ginger, running to him. Uncle Ely 
joined them. 

“Yes, you found him, Buck. This is the little ar> 
mored fellow.' 


20 


WILD AMERICANS 


“But this doesn't look like a pig! I thought you 
said it would be a wild animal." 

"This is it. I didn't tell you all about him. I just 
told you that he has a shell. His shell is made of 
curved pieces, neatly fitted together, so that they can 
be folded. Whenever the animal sees or hears an 
enemy, he may decide to fold up inside his shell. 
Then he becomes a round ball, and here it is.' 

"Then the animal is inside, Uncle Ely?" 

"Yes. See this oval pointed piece of shell? This is 
his head. It fits neatly into a groove, made especially 
for it, with the hard shell outside. His feet and tail 
are folded in, too. The shell on his back is made of 
nine hoops or bands, joined together, with larger 
pieces for the front and rear. They have all been 
drawn together to make the ball. Isn't it odd?" 

"Yes, sir!” exclaimed Buck. "I never heard of any' 
thing like this." 

"I never did, either," said Ginger. 

They rolled the ball around, and it remained tight' 
ly closed. It could have been mistaken for a rock, or 
an old stump. The shell was dark brown and black. 
The children were greatly interested in it, but the 
animal refused to open his shell to let them see what 
he looked like inside. 


THE ARMADILLO 


21 


“Come on, let’s go away,” suggested Uncle Ely. 
“He will not loosen his shell as long as we are here.” 

They walked on a short distance. Uncle Ely looked 
at the children and held his finger over his mouth, 
signaling them to be quiet. They began to walk 
without rustling leaves and sticks. Uncle Ely was in 
the lead. He moved very slowly. Suddenly he 
stopped, and again motioned to the children to be 
very quiet. He knelt down so that he could whisper 
to them. 

“Sh'h'h-h! Look right over there, through that 
green bush. Part the leaves quietly so you can see.” 

Buck and Ginger slowly separated the leaves and 
peered through. In a little clearing not far away was 
a strangedooking family. A mother and four babies 
were nosing into the chips and leaves and grass. 

The mother was no bigger than a small dog, and 
the babies were about the size of kittens. They had 
long pointed noses, short little legs with claws, and 
long tails. They had no hair or fur. But they had ar^ 
mor, as did the fellow who was shaped like a basket' 
ball. 

These, however, were not rolled into balls. Their 
armor had been unfolded, and their bodies were long, 
much like pigs as Uncle Ely had said. They were also 


22 


WILD AMERICANS 


rooting in the ground for bits to eat, as pigs do. The 
children watched them for several minutes, then 
Buck forgot and spoke aloud. “Gee, Id like to catch 
one! 1 ’ 

Rustle-rustle-rustle\ The family was gone! 

They didn’t curl into balls. They started running. 
Instantly Uncle Ely jumped out and gave chase. He 
crashed through the brush and leaves. In a moment, 
however, he called. 

“Here is a baby one! Come and see it.” The chib 
dren hastened to him. 

There, sure enough, was one of the babies, now 
curled into a ball no bigger than a large apple. Its 
shell was not hard to touch, as had been the shell on 
the grown animal. The baby’s shell was more like 
leather. 

“What became of the others?” Ginger asked. 
“Why didn’t they roll up?” 

“These animals have two ways to protect therm 
selves,” Uncle Ely explained. “They can run and 
hide, and they prefer to do that. Or they can quickly 
roll into balls. A few big animals, such as dogs and 
panthers, can tear into them, although it is hard to 
do. Most enemies cannot break through the shells, 
however.” 


THE ARMADILLO 


23 


“Shall we take this one home with us?” Buck 
asked, pointing to the baby rolled into a ball. 

“No. He does no harm. It would be cruel to take 
him into captivity, wouldn’t it?” 

“Yes, sir,” said Buck, instantly sorry. 

The three hikers walked on and talked a great deal 
about these odd animals. Uncle Ely said that the little 
armored fellows are found only in Texas, and in the 
neighboring country of Mexico. They have come 
into Texas from Mexico, and have not yet spread to 
other states. 

The children and their uncle were almost home 
again when Ginger suddenly thought of something. 

“Uncle Ely, you forgot to tell us the little armored 
fellow’s name! What is he called?” 

“Armadillo. Say it slowly: ar-ma-dilho. The name 
is as odd as the animal.” 

The children practiced saying it. “What does the 
name mean?” Buck asked. 

“It is a Spanish word, meaning little armored feh 
low,’ ” Uncle Ely explained as he smiled at the chih 
dren. “So you see, Ginger, I really had told you his 
name, after all.” 



Chapter III 

THE GOPHER: An Animal with Pockets 

Billy Buck Blair awoke in the family trailer, won' 
dering where they had stopped. He and Mary Vir¬ 
ginia had gone to bed early, and Father had driven 
on while they slept. 

Now Buck sat up in his bunk and peered out the 
window. The sun was just beginning its day. The 
car and trailer, Buck discovered, were parked not far 
from a stream—a perfect place for a camp. There 
was a cleared spot for a yard, room for a campfire, in 
fact everything they needed. But right in the middle 


24 



THE GOPHER 


25 


of their little yard were some peculiar mounds of dirt. 

The mounds were fresh damp soil, not quite knee 
high. Buck stared at one of them, because he saw a 
hole beside it. Then something startled him. 

All in an instant, more dirt was thrown up out of 
the hole, and he caught a glimpse of a gray, furry 
animal. 

The boy made such a bustle and noise with his 
hurried dressing that he woke everybody. In two 
minutes he was outside, looking down the hole. 

“Found a bear, young fellow?” 

Buck jumped at the sound of Uncle Ely's voice. 
Uncle Ely had come outside, too, and was smiling 
down at his nephew. 

“No—I don't know, sir. I don't know what it is.” 

Uncle Ely squatted on his heels, cowboy fashion, 
and looked at the hole and mound of dirt. 

“A gopher made that, Buck,” he explained. 

“Oh, no, sir! It was an animal. I saw him throw- 
ing up dirt.” 

Uncle Ely laughed heartily. “That's all right. The 
gopher is the animal you saw. That's what I meant.” 
“Oh.” 

“Yes. He's down there, waiting for us to go away 
so he can throw up more dirt. He is afraid of us.” 


26 


WILD AMERICANS 


“Does he live underground?" This question came 
from Ginger, who by this time had also dressed and 
hurried outside. 

“Yes, Ginger, he does. Gophers are subterranean 
animals, which means they live under the ground. 
They are strange creatures, very destructive to grass, 
crops that the farmer grows, and almost every other 
kind of root. People call them the root-eaters." 

“I never saw one," said Ginger. 

“I just caught a glimpse," Buck explained. “I wish 
we could see him outside." 

“After breakfast, I will ride over to the village here 
and get a trap," Uncle Ely promised. “A simple trap 
will catch him. The gopher is a very strange fellow, 
and I want you to become acquainted with him." 

In the village near which the Blairs had camped 
for the night, the storekeeper told them that people 
had been trying to rid their farms of gophers. As he 
sold the Blairs a small wire trap, he explained to Un¬ 
cle Ely, Buck, and Ginger that the little furry pests 
cost the farmers thousands of dollars yearly, by bur¬ 
rowing in the land to eat the roots of growing crops. 

Uncle Ely showed the children how to set the trap, 
then pushed it down in the gopher hole about as far 
as Ginger's hand could reach. 



“Now let’s go away for an hour, and I’m sure we’ll 
have him,” Uncle Ely explained. “He will come to 
fill that opening to his hole, and be caught.” 

Uncle Ely was right. 

When they came back to the trap just before noon, 
a bundle of fur was in it. At first there appeared to 
be no eyes, ears or legs. But when removed from the 
trap, the bundle of fur took form. 

The eyes of a gopher are very small and hard to 
find in the fur. Ears are very tiny, too. The tail is 
short but stubby, and the short little legs have long 
claws, especially the front legs. 

“He is almost blind because he lives mostly under¬ 
ground and doesn’t have any light by which to see,” 
explained Uncle Ely. “He can hear better than his 
ears indicate. He sees and hears with his tail.” 









28 


WILD AMERICANS 


"With his tail?" Buck and Ginger asked together. 
Even Mrs. Blair, who stood nearby, looked question- 
ingly at Uncle Ely. 

"Yes, with his tail. A gopher s tail is so sensitive 
that he can tell what kind of food it touches, and it 
aids in guiding him around his underground hallways. 
The scientists tell us his is a most unusual tail. 

"I should think so!” agreed Mother. 

"Look at his strong teeth, used for cutting roots, 
and the long sharp front claws used for digging. He 
digs dirt, then pushes it up with his shoulders, to 
make these mounds you see.” 

"But here, children, is the strangest thing of all. 
Did you know that the gopher is an animal with 
pockets?” 

"No!” 

"Yes, he is. Beside each jaw is a little pocket in his 
fur, just like the hip pocket in your trousers, Buck. 
It is big enough for you to put your thumb in, and 
about one inch deep in a big gopher. See?” 

It was indeed a strange thing—a furry little beast 
with two cheek pockets. Uncle Ely explained that 
he carried food there, from wherever he found it, 
down his long hallways to his nest. 

The gopher nest is made of grass several feet under 


THE GOPHER 


29 


ground. The babies are bom there. They drink their 
mother’s milk, as kittens do. Soon they are able to 
hunt roots for themselves, and have little pockets of 
their own in which to carry the bits of food that they 
gnaw. 

“I just thought of something else queer,” said Un¬ 
cle Ely. “Did you people know that this gopher, 
which is not much bigger than my hand, is related to 
those big fine deer we saw the other day?” 

Nobody answered at first. Then Bob Blair, Uncle 
Ely’s brother, spoke. “How do you explain that, 
Ely?” 

“Well, they’re both mammals. A mammal is any 
animal that feeds its young with mother’s milk, as a 
cow does. The big deer, weighing three hundred 
pounds or more, is a mammal; and so is this little 
furry underground creature, the gopher.” 

“Goodness!” exclaimed Ginger. There surely is 
a lot to learn about wild animals.” 

“Yes, Sis, but it’s fun to know,” said Buck. “Uncle 
Ely, when can we find something else wild?” 


Chapter IV 

THE GRASSHOPPER: A Flying Pest 

Buck and Ginger were riding in the front seat of 
the car with Uncle Ely, who was driving. The after- 
noon was hot, and Buck was almost asleep. Ginger 
was daydreaming. Then there was a sudden noise. 
It came as a slap and a splatter all in one. Something 
had hit the windshield. 

“Oh!” gasped Ginger, staring at the ugly spot on 
the glass. 

Buck was instantly awake. 

“Nothing but a grasshopper,” he explained. “He 
made a nose dive into our windshield, and splattered.” 


30 




THE GRASSHOPPER 


31 


The car and trailer roared on for a half mile when 
Mother Blair, who was in the back seat, suddenly 
cried out. The children turned to look at her. 

“There's one in here now!” Mother cried. “Two 
of them. Fan them out, son.” 

The insects hopped up and out the car window. 
Others could be seen outside. 

“Look,” Ginger pointed, “they're flying. I thought 
grasshoppers hopped. I didn't know they could fly, 
as birds do.” 

Uncle Ely answered her with a chuckle, “Surely 
they can fly. Just look at them. Why, we're in a 
swarm of them!” He leaned down a bit to peer out 
through the windshield at the sky. 

“They look like butterflies. See that great big one 
with the lacy wings!” exclaimed Ginger. 

More grasshoppers were splattering against 'the 
windshield. Mother quickly closed the windows to 
keep them out of the car. Uncle Ely was muttering 
to himself, and staring at the sky again. “Millions of 
them,” he was saying, “millions, and getting thicker.” 

Everybody began to look at the sky. The travelers 
suddenly remembered that they had been moving 
through a swarm of grasshoppers for several mim 
utes, and the swarm was getting thicker. Uncle Ely 


32 


WILD AMERICANS 


drove off the road and stopped the car. Let s get out 
and look,” he suggested. 

He and the children stepped out of the sedan 
doors; then, with various exclamations, they hastened 
back inside again. The flying insects had appeared 
unafraid of them; some had crashed right into them, 
and were now striking the car from every direction. 

Suddenly they heard a shout from the outside. 

"Say, up there!" it was Father Blair's voice. "What 
is this? Can't a fellow take a nap without having you 
run into beehives?" 

Father had been napping in the trailer, and when 
it stopped he was awakened. 

"They aren't bees. But get your head back in and 
shut the window, before the trailer is full of them." 
Uncle Ely shouted through the whirring of the grass- 
hopper wings. In a moment Father was in the sedan 
seat with Mother, as interested as the others had 
been. 

"What do you make of it, Ely?" he asked, in a 
worried tone. 

"Nothing to make of it. Just grasshoppers, and 
more grasshoppers." 

"But I never knew they came in such hordes," 
Mother declared. 


THE GRASSHOPPER 


33 


“Oh, yes, they certainly do! This will probably 
get worse.” 

It did get worse. Within five minutes, the sky was 
darkened by the invading insects, and they were set- 
tling down, too. There was no counting them, no 
guessing their numbers. 

Soon the fields near the highway were alive with 
the pests. The fence wires were covered with them. 
The fence posts were “working” on every side, with 
grasshoppers on top of grasshoppers. 

The car was covered. The pavement was “work- 
ing” like the fence posts. The sun was almost invisi¬ 
ble, because the sky was filled with the flying crea¬ 
tures. 

The travelers sat and stared. Buck and Ginger 
were frightened, and Mother herself was quite 
alarmed. Uncle Ely looked at her and said, “Nothing 
to be afraid of. They don't bother people.” 

“But—what do they want, Uncle Ely?” Buck 
asked. 

“Food. They're hungry, very hungry. They'll eat 
almost anything; plants, trees, even posts and hoe 
handles, and clothing, grass, flowers, anything! I've 
seen them like this only a few times in my life. Some 
years they are very bad, then we won't have many 


34 


WILD AMERICANS 


for several years. Most of the western states have 
invasions like this at times. 

“It’s very bad, really, because they will destroy ev¬ 
ery crop in sight, and the farmers lose thousands, 
even millions of dollars. Half an hour from now that 
field you see will be stripped clean.” 

“Goodness!” Mother exclaimed softly. 

Nobody was smiling now. Ginger looked at her 
uncle. 

“Are they—are they wild animals, Uncle Ely?” she 
asked. 

“Well, yes. Yes, they are. We don’t ordinarily 
think of them as animals, but as insects, but they are 
wild just the same. I’d rather have a dozen mountain 
lions on my farm than to have these flying enemies.” 

“I never knew before that a grasshopper could do 
any harm,” Billy Buck ventured, greatly interested. 

“A grasshopper can’t, Buck. But billions of grass' 
hoppers can. They are destructive through force of 
numbers. Numbers, remember that—not one, or one 
thousand, or even one million; but billions and bil¬ 
lions. Farmers can fight them with poison, and with 
traps, and other devices, but men can’t do much to 
ward off such hordes of flying enemies as we see 
today. 


THE GRASSHOPPER 


35 


“I have seen grasshoppers pile up against walls and 
fences like snowdrifts in winter. Once in a western 
city I saw them piled waist high on downtown side¬ 
walks, where they had hit the sides of skyscrapers 
and fallen there in an ugly, writhing mass. I have 
seen them so thick that their greasy bodies made rails 
slippery and stopped trains. Even now, it would be 
unsafe to drive on this pavement, because they are 
so numerous our tires would skid on them. 

“I am glad you are having this experience, sad as it 
is for our farmer folk and our flower gardeners near¬ 
by. Not many people know that grasshoppers can 
come in such numbers. A grasshopper usually is re¬ 
garded as a creature in a fairy tale, a friendly old fel¬ 
low who loafs and plays the fiddle all day. Some of 
them, with their wings spread, are beautiful enough 
to be in fairyland; but generally they are just destruc¬ 
tive pests. In a little while we can drive on. The sky 
is much lighter now, and the swarm is moving. But 
you have seen something important today.” 




Chapter V 

THE PACK RAT: The Trader 

Ginger Blair awoke early one morning in the trailer 
and stretched and yawned. She sat up in bed, then 
suddenly she called, “Mother, where’s my wrist 
watch?” 

Mother awoke then. She told Ginger that she had 
not seen the watch. 

“But it was right here under my bunk at bedtime. 
I put it there very carefully, on the floor. Now it’s 
gone.” 

The talking woke everyone, and because Ginger 
still did not find her watch, all the family began to 
search for it. 


36 


THE PACK RAT 


37 


No one could find it. In a little while, however, 
Uncle Ely spoke. “Who put this silk stocking in my 
coat pocket?” he asked. 

“Not I,” said Ginger, and every one else said, “Not 
I.” Father was smiling. He thought the children 
must have been playing jokes. In a moment, how¬ 
ever, he too called out. 

“Here’s your watch, Sister, inside of my vest. But 
my fountain pen is gone! What is this, anyway? Is 
somebody trying to play tricks on us?” 

Then Uncle Ely began to chuckle, and everybody 
looked at him as if he were guilty. When they did so, 
he laughed. 

“Don’t look at me,” he said, still laughing. “I’m 
not the joker. But I think I know who it was. It 
wasn’t a member of the family, either.” 

“Then who could it be?” demanded Mother. “We 
are strangers here, just camping. I don’t believe there 
is anybody near, not even a house in sight.” 

“Never mind where we are. We have neighbors. 
One of them is a little fellow with a long tail. He 
has a rabbit-like face, large ears, and a sleek coat.” 

“It’s an animal, isn’t it, Uncle Ely?” cried Ginger. 
“But what kind of animal could be stealing watches 
and fountain pens?” 


38 


WILD AMERICANS 


“Yes, and putting silk stockings in people’s coats? 
added Father. 

“A pack rat could,” said Uncle Ely. 

“A—a what?” 

“Pack rat. Sometimes it is called a trade rat.” 

“Never heard of him,” Father declared. 

“Yes, you have, but you’ve forgotten. We used to 
see them when we were kids, Bob. But your children 
never have seen them, probably because they have 
been reared in an eastern city.” 

“Tell us about him, Uncle Ely,” both children 
urged. 

While the two men broke dead wood from bushes 
nearby to build a campfire for breakfast, Uncle Ely 
talked about the strange rat which is in all truth one 
of the most mysterious creatures in the American 
wilderness. 

“ Tack’ is a western word, meaning to carry,” Un- 
cle Ely began. “We have pack horses, for instance. 
Well, sir, the pack rat is called that because he car¬ 
ries or packs things wherever he goes. He is not par¬ 
ticular about what he carries—just anything that is 
shiny or small. 

“We also call him trade rat, because he will trade 
one thing for another. If he is carrying a spoon from 


THE PACK RAT 


39 


somebody’s kitchen—as he is likely to be doing if he 
enters a house—he may see a belt buckle that he likes 
better. Right then he will drop the spoon and pick 
up the buckle. A few feet farther on, he may trade 
the buckle for a pencil. You saw how he traded your 
watch for your father’s fountain pen, Ginger.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Well, now I want to find what he did with the 
fountain pen. I think we may locate it, too.” 

“How, Uncle Ely?” 

“See that mound of sticks and thorny things over 
there, under that bush? That looks very much like 
a pack rat nest. If our visitor didn’t trade the pen off 
before he got there, it will be in the nest. We will 
dig into it and see, after breakfast.” 

The two children talked about pack rats during the 
meal. They learned from Uncle Ely that these rats 
are common in the Southwest, that they are about 
the size of big house rats, but that they do not destroy 
much valuable property, and they can be tamed as 
pets. 

When the dishes were all washed and the campfire 
carefully put out, Uncle Ely took a small shovel from 
the car and dug into the nest under the bushes. One 
of the rats was found, but he promptly hurried away. 


40 


WILD AMERICANS 


There were many little underground trails or tunnels, 
and the doors or outlets of these were all carefully 
protected by clumps of dead cactus thorns which the 
rats had placed there. Uncle Ely explained that these 
thorns would keep coyotes, hawks, and other anfi 
mals from capturing the rats. 

In the nest the children found many things. There 
were stones and little sticks, tree buds, pieces of bone, 
a small tin can, and several nails. Buck and Ginger 
were talking about these things when Mother came 
to them. 

"Isn't it interesting?" Mother stooped over to look 
at the pack rat home. "Did you find your fountain 
pen, Bob?" 

"No, I didn't. Must have been another family that 
stole it. I hate to lose that pen, too." 

Uncle Ely poked around in the nest. 

"What's this?" asked Mother suddenly, as she 
stooped and picked up a bright shining object. 
"Why, I do believe it's my silver thimble!" 

Father, Uncle Ely, Buck, and Ginger crowded close 
to see the shining thimble that lay in the palm of her 
hand. 

"That's your thimble, all right!" exclaimed Father. 
"Here's your name engraved on it." 


THE PACK RA T 


41 


“Where did you last use it?” asked Uncle Ely. 

“Let me think,” answered Mother. “Oh, I remem' 
her, I used it to darn your socks, Father. Then I must 
have laid it on the running board of the car for a 
moment when I went to heat the water to begin sup' 
per. And I never thought of it again!” 

“And the pack rat stole it?” demanded Buck. 

“He must have,” agreed Uncle Ely. 

When Ginger heard that, she ran back to the car. 

“You were right, Uncle Ely,” she called. “He was 
a trade rat.” 

“How do you know?” asked Buck. 

“Because here is Father’s fountain pen, on the run' 
ning board of the car just where Mother left her 
thimble.” 




Chapter VI 

THE PANTHER: A Lassoed Lion 

“So you think you would like to go lion hunting, 
do you ?' 1 

“Yes, sir ! 11 said Buck. 

The big man was sitting on his horse, staring down 
at Buck. He had just agreed to take Father and Uncle 
Ely with him into the wilderness searching for a 
mountain lion, and Buck at once asked to go. 

“You understand, don't you, son, that we are not 
going to shoot this lion? We are going to try to bring 
him back alive . 11 

“Yes, sir. I heard you telling Uncle Ely . 11 

42 


THE PANTHER 


43 


“Think you wouldn't get scared? You are not ten 
years old yet." 

“No, sir! Not with you along." 

The man laughed heartily. “Now that's what I 
call a good answer, Buck. You make me feel good, 
then I find it hard to say no. Well, you look strong, 
so if your dad thinks you can ride a horse well enough, 
you may go." 

The man wanted a live mountain lion because he 
had an order for one from a city zoo. The zoo would 
pay him a high price for it, so he said. However, the 
hunt might be very dangerous. Uncle Ely and Father 
knew that, and Buck had to promise to be very care- 
ful. He was given a good horse, and after an early 
breakfast one morning the party rode away. 

The big westerner who was guide for the party 
was named Charlie. With him were five dogs, trained 
especially to follow the trail of a mountain lion. They 
were baying and barking impatiently when the party 
rode out of camp that morning. 

“I should think a big lion could kill a dog," Buck 
ventured. 

“You aren't mistaking this lion for the kind you 
see in the circus, are you?" asked Charlie. 

Uncle Ely answered for him. 


44 


WILD AMERICANS 


“Yes, I imagine he is, Charlie. I don't know that 
we have ever told the children about the American 
lion . 11 

“These lions, Buck, are not like the lions of Africa, 
such as you see at the circus. Ours are called pan' 
thers, pumas, or cougars, all names for the same anh 
mal. Ours are not as large as the African lions. Ours 
do not have the great shaggy mane, and are not as 
fierce as the others, thank goodness! That's why we 
can trail them with dogs. A panther might kill one 
dog, or even two or three, all right; but he is afraid 
of dogs and will usually run up a tree when dogs 
follow his trail. Isn't that right, Charlie?" 

“Right. A panther doesn't know his own strength. 
Also he is something of a coward, unless he is cor 
nered. Then he will put up a pretty good fight. A 
big panther will weigh two hundred pounds or more, 
three times what the biggest dog will weigh. He has 
sharp teeth and claws. We'll see." 

Buck was beaming with interest at all this talk. He 
was going to see not a 2100 lion, but a real ferocious 
wild American lion, just the same! Wouldn't he 
have something to tell his friends at home! 

“Do they kill many people, Mr. Charlie?" the boy 
asked. 



1 - * ■*&$$ V '"* fsS&a* ^vp§ ■ v, <»■ •■' * 


























/ 














































































. 












































































































THE PANTHER 


47 


Just call me Charlie, Buck; we are all men to- 
gether on this trip. No, they never kill people. Un¬ 
less a man happens to become tangled with one close 
up, for some reason. They do kill a lot of sheep, 
goats, calves, colts, even grown horses, and cows and 
deer. That’s why all ranchers in the western coun¬ 
try object to them. Really the lions are beautiful ani¬ 
mals, graceful and quick as your pet cat at home. But 
they eat so much livestock we have to kill them when 
we can. They aren’t as troublesome as they used to 
be, however.” 

The hunters continued talking about lions for more 
than an hour, moving along at a fast walk. Suddenly 
one of the dogs, Old Baldy, far ahead of them, gave 
a peculiar long yowl. Instantly Charlie was alert. 

“That’s lion talk!” he declared. “Old Baldy’s 
caught the scent of lion. I know his call.” 

Old Baldy bayed again, and the riders spurred their 
horses to catch up with him. Buck was almost beside 
himself with excitement, but he was busy staying in 
his saddle, too, for the country was rough. 

Soon all the dogs were on the lion trail, and the 
horsemen were following them as fast as they could. 
They had to ride over hills, jump ditches and rocks, 
circle canyons, and find their way among trees, but 


48 


WILD AMERICANS 


they stayed near the dogs. After a while, the tone of 
the dogs’ barking changed. 

“Treed!” shouted Charlie. 

That meant the lion had stopped running and was 
up in a tree. In a few minutes the hunters were on 
the scene. Sure enough, on a strong limb of a pine 
tree crouched a big tan-colored cat, snarling at the 
dogs and at the men. The dogs were jumping high 
against the trunk and barking wildly in their excite¬ 
ment. Everybody, even the horses, was excited. Then 
Charlie spoke. 

“He’s a big one, men! Here’s where we have some 
fun!” 

In a flash he had his lariat rope off his saddle; a 
loop was twirling over his head, and—swish, jerk!— 
the lion was lassoed. 

“Pf-f-f-ft! Gr-r-r-r-r!” 

The lion growled and snarled, fighting the rope. 

Charlie was moving extremely fast. With one leap 
he was off his horse. He gave the rope a deft jerk, 
throwing the lion off the limb on the other side from 
where the men were standing. In the same instant, 
Charlie snubbed his end of the rope around a small 
tree nearby, then tied it there. In a moment the lion 
was dangling by the rope, hanging over the limb. The 


THE PANTHER 


49 


animal was wriggling and growling furiously, but it 
was helpless. The dogs were barking wildly. Buck’s 
horse reared in alarm, almost unseating its rider, be- 
cause even when trained for hunting, horses are 
afraid of lions. 

“Whoa, boy!” Charlie soothed the frightened 
horse, at the same time grinning at Buck and yelling 
to him, “Hang on tight, old timer!” Buck held on 
tight. He was frightened at all the noise and action. 
Things were happening too fast! 

In another moment or two, Charlie had slipped a 
short rope over the lion’s front paws and bound them 
tightly together. Then he did the same to the hind 
legs, and tied the great beast so firmly that it could 
not scratch. 

Next Charlie ordered the dogs back several yards, 
commanding them to stay there. Then the first lariat 
rope was loosened, the trussed lion let down to the 
ground, and the hunt was over! 

“Whew!” sighed Uncle Ely, loudly, “I have been 
in on many a roping act heretofore, but never one as 
fast and skillful as that, Charlie!” 

“Nothing to it, if a fellow’s lucky,” grinned Chan 
lie, as he slung the helpless lion to a long pole. But 
the other men knew better! They knew that Charlie 


50 


WILD AMERICANS 


had shown rare nerve and bravery, to lasso and tie a 
grown wild mountain lion single-handed. 

The horses didn't like the thought of carrying a 
lion home, but Charlie had them well trained. One 
end of the pole he tied to his saddle. The other end 
dragged on the ground several feet behind. The lion 
hung in the middle, back down, well above the 
ground and securely tied so it would not be injured 
and could do no harm. This method of packing was 
a trick Charlie had learned from the Indians, he said. 

That was the procession Mother and Ginger saw 
when the tired, happy party rode into camp late that 
day—a live lion on a pole, and the men all grinning 
proudly. 

When all the horses were in their corral and fed 
for the night, the lion safely in a cage for shipment, 
the dogs given food, and the people had settled down 
to their own hearty dinner, Ginger Blair spoke. “Oh, 
Mother," she said sorrowfully, “I wish I were a boy!" 



Chapter VII 

THE HORNED LIZARD: A Tiny Reptile 
Several days later the Blair car and trailer were 
in camp near an Indian village in the sunny South" 
west, a little Indian boy came near and saw Ginger. 
The children were on the other side of the trailer 
from the grown people, so that no one else saw them. 
The little Indian boy stared and stared at the girl. 
“Hello, 1 ’ said Ginger, and smiled at him. 

He didn’t answer for a long time. He just stared. 
Then he began fumbling in a sack he carried. Soon 
his hand came out holding something which he ex" 


51 



52 


WILD AMERICANS 


tended to the white girl. It was a most peculiar look' 
ing something—about the size of a small leather 
purse, gray colored, with odd spines or horns all over 
it. Ginger noticed that a string was tied to it. 

Suddenly the thing wiggled. 

Ginger shrieked and jumped back a step. She had 
been about to take it in her hand! 

The Indian boy stared at her all the harder. Then 
he put the thing down on the ground, holding one 
end of the string. At once it tried to run away, dart' 
ing this way and that. It had four little legs, such as 
a lizard has, and a head much like a lizard’s, too, with 
a crown of short, sharp horns around it. Its body 
was rounded, like a toad’s. 

“My goodness, what is it?” asked Ginger. 

She moved a little closer, but she wouldn’t touch 
the strange creature. The Indian boy picked it up 
and held it carefully. He extended it to Ginger again, 
but she was still afraid of it. Presently the boy spoke. 

“Come,” he said, and started away. 

No one else had seen the two children, so when 
Ginger followed the lad, not even Mother knew 
where she had gone. The two went down a hill, over 
a low cliff and out onto a sandy flat area. Soon the 
little boy stopped and pointed to the ground. 


THE HORNED LIZARD 


53 


“O-o-o-oh! They’re babies!” Ginger was delighted. 
There on the ground was another of the animals, 
slightly bigger than her hand, and all around were a 
dozen or more tiny little ones no bigger than postage 
stamps. The babies were scurrying here and there. 
One would dart a few inches, then stop and cock 
his tiny head to look at the children. The large one, 
who appeared to be the mother, didn’t seem much 
afraid. The Indian boy picked up a baby and held 
it out for Ginger to take in her hands. A little fear- 
fully she accepted it. 

Suddenly the baby wiggled, twisting his tiny 
thorny head. Ginger called out sharply and dropped 
it. The Indian boy laughed and gave her another one 
to hold. 

The children watched the peculiar family for sev¬ 
eral minutes. Nearby was an ant hill. Presently the 
large animal ran over to the ant hill and stopped. 
Then the strangest thing happened—ants began to 
disappear! An ant would be crawling along near the 
creature animal, then instantly it vanished. Ginger 
had to watch very carefully in order to see that the 
animal was snapping up ants with its tongue, a mo¬ 
tion almost too quick to see and very interesting to 
watch. 


54 


WILD AMERICANS 


“What are they called? What is their name?" Gnv 
ger asked the Indian boy. 

He didn't answer. He just stared at her, somewhat 
rudely, Ginger thought. Then he ran away and soon 
returned with an Indian man. 

The “Mister Indian," as Ginger called him later, 
proved to be very friendly and spoke good English, 
so that Ginger could understand him. He was dressed 
in dark clothing, wore a belt of silver ornaments, and 
around his forehead was tied a bright red band. Soon 
he was holding Ginger on one knee and the little boy 
on the other. 

“People call these horned toads," he explained, 
“but they are really lizards that have grown spread 
out and flat. The white teacher in our school told 
us so. Our people have known about them for many 
years. We do not harm them, for they do no harm 
to people, and they are interesting to watch." 

“What do they eat?" Ginger asked. 

“Ants, mostly. They will eat other small things 
such as bugs and flies and crickets." 

“I never saw one before." 

“Where is your hogan (ho'gan), little white girl?" 

Ginger looked at him questioningly. 

“I mean, where is your home?" The man smiled. 


THE HORNED LIZARD 


55 


“Hogan is our word for home. Where do you live?” 

“Oh, away back in an eastern state, many miles 
from here.” 

“Then you do not have these horned lizards. They 
live in the sandy country of the Southwest, in Texas, 
New Mexico, and Arizona. They love the warm 
sand. At night they burrow into the sand and flip 
it over their backs to cover themselves, so they can 
sleep well. In winter time they stay burrowed day 
and night, waiting for the warm spring sunshine.” 

“Oh, yes, the bears do that, too.” 

“Yes. I see you are a wise little white girl. How 
do you happen to be in our Indian village?” 

Then all at once Ginger remembered that she had 
left camp without telling anyone where to find her. 
She had just strayed away with the little Indian boy. 
Hastily she bade her new friends good-by and ran 
back up the cliff over the hill. 

When the family saw her, they all came running. 

“Where have you been?” shouted Buck. “Every¬ 
one has been looking and looking for you. We were 
very much frightened.” 

Then Ginger told them all about her adventure, 
and took Buck and Uncle Ely back to see the horned 
lizards. The Indians were gone, however. 


56 


WILD AMERICANS 


“Uncle Ely, I forgot to ask Mister Indian one thing 
that I want to know. 1 ’ 

“What, Ginger ?' 1 

“Why does the little animal have horns ? 11 

“They are just to frighten enemies. The horns are 
too small and too short to do any real harm. But you 
will note that this fellow looks quite fierce when he 
bows his neck and shows fight. Thus he can scare 
away many animals that would harm him. Were you 
afraid of the first one you saw ? 11 

Now Ginger didn't want to tell a lie, but then 
Buck had been boasting about the lion hunt, on 
which he had gone with the men. So she just pre- 
tended to be very much astonished at Uncle Ely's 
question, and merely asked, “Who? Me afraid ? 11 

She winked at Uncle Ely, and he winked back. 






Chapter VIII 

THE JACK RABBIT: A LongTared Jumper 
“Today,” said Uncle Ely, “I am going to introduce 
you two eastern children to a famous westerner. At 
least I shall try to. He may be hard to find, but pen 
haps not.” 

The country about them was called a desert, but 
it was not barren as true deserts are. It had many 
mesquite, ironwood, and palo verde trees, cactus 
plants, and wild flowers adding their splashes of green 
and dots of reds and yellows to the landscape. The 


57 




58 


WILD AMERICANS 


softer reds and browns of great boulders added still 
more beauty, and the purplish-red mountains, hazy in 
the distance, made a lovely background for it all. 
Uncle Ely, speaking softly, had been pointing out 
these things, encouraging the children to enjoy the 
outdoors. The three were walking quietly. Then 
Buck stumbled on a root and fell right into a bush. 

Instantly something moved nearby—thump! bump- 
ety-bumpety-bumpety—making a running sound that 
quickly faded away. 

“O—oh!” said Ginger, very much startled. 

Leaping and running away from them at a truly 
astonishing speed was a gray animal almost as tall 
as a dog. 

It seemed to jump more than it ran. When it came 
to a bush, it just leaped over, never hesitating. Its 
legs were very long. 

Everyone stared for several seconds, even after the 
animal had disappeared in the distance. 

“My goodness!” Ginger exclaimed under her 
breath. But Uncle Ely answered now. 

“That, children, was the westerner I spoke of. Did 
you notice?” 

“Yes! Yes, sir, I surely did!” Buck was excited 
about it. “He had the longest ears I have ever seen 


THE JACK RABBIT 


59 


on any animal. Why, they were that long, Uncle 
Ely!” He measured halfway up his arm. 

“And they stood up high!” Ginger added. “Good' 
ness, what does he do with such ears? And how fast 
he can run!” 

“He listens for danger with them,” Uncle Ely ex' 
plained. “He can hear you long before you come 
near him. I am surprised that we got as close to him 
as we did. Probably that was because we had been 
very quiet.” 

“I thought at first it was a rabbit,” said Buck, “but 
he seemed too big for a rabbit. Could he have been 
a giant rabbit, Uncle Ely?” 

“That’s not a bad guess, Buck. As a matter of fact, 
he was a kind of giant rabbit and, strictly speaking, 
jack rabbits are hares and not rabbits. He is a jack 
rabbit, but I’m sure his ears weren’t quite as long as 
you thought. I have seen hundreds of them, been 
very close to them. Their ears are about as long as 
my hand—six or eight inches, perhaps.” 

“They look longer.” 

“Yes, they do. But a jack rabbit’s legs are more 
important than his ears, I think. With his leaping 
and running, he can flee from dogs, wolves, foxes, 
lions, anything that might give chase. I have seen 


60 


WILD AMERICANS 


few dogs that could catch a jack rabbit. On the open 
prairie, where there isn’t any brush, I have even 
chased jack rabbits on my horse. But I never caught 
one.” 

The children next began to stir up the bushes and 
tufts of grass around them. Uncle Ely had suggested 
that there might be some young jack rabbits. 

Ginger looked and looked and looked, and Buck 
peered here and there and everywhere, but they 
found no nest. They were about ready to continue 
their hike when Uncle Ely quietly pointed back to¬ 
ward the trail over which they had been walking. 
“See?” he asked. 

Both children stared. “No. What is it?” Buck 
whispered, still looking. 

Quietly Uncle Ely came to them, knelt beside them 
and pointed. “Right under a comer of that rock,” 
he whispered, “with the clump of dried grass almost 
screening them from us. See now?” 

The children looked carefully for a moment, then, 
“O-o-oh, yes, sir! Bunnies! Baby jack rabbits, aren’t 
they, Uncle Ely?” 

“That’s right. But they know we have seen them. 
They won’t be there long. They will —there they go /” 

Even as he spoke, two little furry gray fellows. 


THE JACK RABBIT 


61 


each with comical long ears and long legs, sprang out 
like bouncing rubber balls. In a twinkling they had 
leaped away, and could be seen no more. 

“We were lucky to see them," Uncle Ely then said. 
“Baby jacks are smart fellows. They can find food and 
take care of themselves when they are no more than 
a week old, and when a month old they can run like 
lightning. However, when danger is near, Nature 
teaches them to stay hidden as long as they dare. The 
old jacks will run at once, when an enemy appears; 
the babies will hide, because they know that they are 
little and can be caught more easily. But when the 
moment comes— zip! and they are gone, too, just as 
we saw." 

“Are there always twin babies?" asked Ginger. 

“No. The parents will have from one to six in a 
family." 

“What do jack rabbits eat, Uncle Ely?" 

“Almost any kind of plant. They especially like 
to eat green vegetables in our gardens, such as cab' 
bages and lettuce. Sometimes, in the southwestern 
country, they become so numerous that they destroy 
much garden growth, and farmers have to shoot 
them. More often, however, it is the owls, foxes and 
larger wild beasts that try to slip up on jack to catch 


62 


WILD AMERICANS 


and eat him. Every wild thing has its natural enemy. 
Come on, let's hike some more. We will probably 
see half a dosen jack rabbits before we return." 







Chapter IX 

THE COYOTE: A Wild Dog 

"Took, there’s a dog!” 

Ginger Blair pointed through the sedan window. 
The family was riding through a level country, far 
from any towns or homes. Ginger had seen the ani¬ 
mal calmly sitting down not many yards from the 
highway. 

“He must be lost,” Bill Buck suggested. “Maybe 
he’s hungry.” 


63 



64 


WILD AMERICANS 


Father was driving, and he already had slowed 
down. Everyone was looking at the dog, and the 
dog was looking at the people, his tongue hanging 
out and his breath panting, for all the world like the 
children's pet dog at home. Father brought the car 
to a stop. 

“It's a dog, all right," Uncle Ely spoke up now. 
“But it is not the kind of dog you think." 

“Looks like a police dog, Uncle Ely," Buck de¬ 
clared. “See his ears, straight up? And his gray and 
tan hair? But he's not grown. I'll bet somebody lost 
him out of a car. Shame, to lose him! He's just a 
puppy, not half-grown!" 

“He's grown, all right." Uncle Ely was slowly get¬ 
ting out of his seat. “You needn't feel sorry for him. 
He is not suffering from hunger. He is too smart for 
that. We have seen half a dozen rabbits and several 
other little animals in the last few miles, you'll re¬ 
member. That dog isn't hungry." 

“Maybe he is a city dog, somebody's pet that 
doesn't know how to hunt," suggested Mother. 

“No. He is not a pet. I know him. His kind is 
common on our Texas ranches. He roams all over 
the American West, and down into Mexico. This is 
truly a western animal, and one that has been wise 





































• • 






































' 
















































































. 




























! 













































































































































































































































































THE COYOTE 


67 


enough to live and multiply in spite of the coming of 
man. Man has shot him and trapped him and poi- 
soned him for years, but still his family lives on. Man 
has killed off many animals, so that they are hard to 
find now, but not this fellow.” 

“What kind of dog is he, Uncle Ely? A police 
dog?” Buck was greatly interested. The entire fam¬ 
ily was watching the beast. 

“A barking dog, having the scientific name of 
latrans. But he is generally known by his Spanish 
name—coyote.” 

“O-o-h, is that a coyote?” Mother exclaimed. “I 
have heard of them and read about them all my life!” 

“That’s a coyote,” Uncle Ely repeated. “Smart¬ 
est wild fellow in the West, I would say. He is a 
famous wild dog.” 

The coyote had moved from his sitting position. 
He trotted a few feet, then paused to stare at the 
people again, as if very curious about them. He did 
indeed look just like a young police dog, except that 
his nose was thinner, and very pointed. He moved 
gracefully. His tail was fluffy and pretty, but it 
drooped low. 

“If he is wild, why isn’t he afraid of us, Uncle 
Ely?” asked Ginger. 


68 


WILD AMERICANS 


“He is peculiar that way. He seems to have a 
strange knowledge of man. If we had stepped out of 
the car with a gun, he would have disappeared in a 
streak, running faster than any pet dog you ever saw. 
He seems to have an unusually keen sense of smell, 
and has learned that the gun smell means danger. But 
he also seems to be very curious about man, and will 
prowl around a camp, or sit on a hill near a tent or a 
home and howl at night. He is both wild and wary.” 

“What does he eat?” 

“Rabbits, gophers, chipmunks, prairie marmots, 
any animal he can catch. Ranchers shoot him be- 
cause he steals calves, lambs, and chickens at times. 
He and his kind have been known to slay deer and 
antelope also. Coyotes hunt in pairs, usually. They 
do most of their hunting in twilight or at night. Some 
people say they are cowards, but this isn't true. A 
coyote will run if a man with a gun and trained hunt¬ 
ing dogs take after him, but he would be foolish not 
to run. If one tame dog attacks him, a coyote will 
probably kill him. He is a good fighter.” 

Uncle Ely had been speaking in a low tone, as the 
family watched the animal. They were very quiet 
so as not to frighten the wild dog away. Then sud¬ 
denly the sound of a gunshot came from a distance. 


THE COYOTE 


69 


Instantly the coyote jumped ahead, and before 
anyone could speak he was fading away in the dis- 
tance. When the family turned to look, a cowboy on 
a horse was seen riding toward them. 

“Howdy, folks, 11 he called cheerily. “Had to take 
a long range crack at that coyote. Knew I couldn't 
get any closer, likely. He can tell when a fellow has 
a gun. But I missed him. Just found a young calf 
killed by coyotes on our ranch this morning, so I'm 
gunning for the dogs. 11 

“I know how it is, 11 Uncle Ely said. “Em a rancher, 
too, down in Texas. 11 

“Texas, eh? We-11, you got plenty of 'em there. 
I'll be ridin 1 on. So long." 

The cowboy’s horse galloped easily away and noth¬ 
ing more was seen of the coyote. The Blairs got back 
in their car and started off. 

Presently Ginger spoke. “Does the wild dog have 
puppies, Uncle Ely?" 

“Certainly. They're the cutest little pups you ever 
saw. Six or seven at a time. They usually make a 
den in a cave or a hidden hollow. The mother and 
father coyotes teach the pups to hunt. If you dis¬ 
cover the den while the pups are young, the coyote 
family will move away. They don't trust man." 


70 


WILD AMERICANS 


Ginger sighed before she spoke again. “My, my!” 
she said. “It seems as though the people don't trust 
the animals, and the animals don't trust the* people, 
everywhere we go.” 

“That's very true, Ginger,” said Uncle Ely, kindly. 
“You are a bright little girl to notice it. All animals 
seem to fear other animals and fight with them. That 
is Nature's plan, and some people call it the struggle 
for the survival of the fittest.” 



Chapter X 

THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN BIGHORN: 

A Bold Mountaineer 

Buck Blair was enjoying the scenery, studying it 
closely with powerful field glasses, when he suddenly 
called, “Uncle Ely! Come and look!” 

Ginger came to see also, her curiosity aroused. 
“Found a bear, Buck?” asked Uncle Ely. 


72 


WILD AMERICANS 


“No, sir. It doesn't look much like a bear. But it's 
a big thing, walking up the mountain over yonder. 
You look—up among those high red rocks." 

The three travelers had ridden high up a western 
mountainside that day, to a cabin where they were 
to spend the night. Their horses were already safe 
in a corral, and the elderly man and woman who lived 
in the cabin had promised that supper would be ready 
in an hour. 

The visitors were delighted to find that the place 
was actually above the clouds! Cloud ships floated 
over the lower mountain tops below them to the 
south. But one or two peaks and a ridge to the north 
were even higher than the cabin. 

Uncle Ely whistled in surprise after he took the 
field glasses. 

“Sa^a^ay, this is something, Buck!" he exclaimed. 
“Why, that's a bighorn! A real wild Rocky Mourn 
tain sheep. They are hard to find now." 

The two children each had a long look at the dis- 
tant animal, brought very close by the powerful field 
glasses. But presently it passed out of view behind 
shrubbery and rocks. Try as they would, they could 
see it no more. 

“You may never see another one, children," Uncle 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN BIGHORN 


73 


Ely told them. “Even before most of the bighorns 
were killed, they were rather hard to see, because 
they lived mainly in the high mountain country. Not 
many of them are left now.” 

“Could we look for one tomorrow anyway, Uncle 
Ely?” 

“Surely! But come in the cabin now; I want to 
show you something.” 

While they waited—not too patiently—for the 
meal to cook, the three studied a hunter’s trophy that 
hung over the cabin fireplace. 

It was an amazing thing, really, a huge animal’s 
head which closely resembled the somewhat ugly face 
of an ordinary sheep. But—the horns of the animal 
certainly were not ordinary! 

“Goodness! He’s all horns!” said Ginger. 

They did not stick up like a cow’s horns, or branch 
into several points like those of a deer. Starting as 
great thick growths from the beast’s forehead, they 
at once curved up, back, sideways, down, then up 
again—one horn on each side of the head, massive 
and strong. 

“They almost make a complete circle, don’t they?” 
said Billy Buck, awed by their size and shape. 

“That’s right,” Uncle Ely agreed. “And here’s 


74 


WILD AMERICANS 


something to remember. A wild sheep is the only 
wild animal that does have circling horns.” 

The three travelers slept so soundly that night, in 
the high mountain air, that they dreamed of nothing 
and heard nothing until well after dawn. Breakfast 
was waiting, and their horses already saddled for 
them, when they did crawl out of bed. Uncle Ely 
agreed to do as both children requested—ride over 
to the next mountain peak, and see if the trail of the 
bighorn could be found. 

“With luck we might—just might—be able to see 
one of them again,” he agreed. 

The riding was slow, for the trails soon disappeared 
among rocks and scrubby growth. Not many trees 
were up this high, although quantities of them could 
be seen on the sweep of the mountains below. Tired 
of riding, the three Blairs tethered their horses and 
walked on for a half hour. 

They were moving, single file, along a narrow 
mountain ledge. One misstep would have sent them 
tumbling hundreds of feet down a steep rocky slope, 
but it was safe enough if one were careful. The chib 
dren agreed that it was a thrilling place to hike. Buck 
was in the lead. Suddenly he halted, too startled to 
speak; while Ginger gasped. 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN BIGHORN 


75 


Even Uncle Ely's mouth popped open in surprise. 

They had rounded a comer in the rocky trail—and 
were face to face with a bighorn ram! Moreover, just 
beyond him was a ewe, and behind her were two or 
three more of the animals. 

The animals were as startled as the people. Never- 
theless, things happened fast. 

Uttering a strange noise—a sort of baaa and snort 
combined—the big ram jumped back. His move 
warned the other animals. 

With truly amazing speed, then, all of them left 
the trail. Down, down they jumped—seeming almost 
to fly, yet touching and sliding and leaping down the 
rocky slope. How they kept their footing no one 
could ever say. People, horses, cows, mules, anything 
but a wild sheep or wild goat would surely have stum¬ 
bled and fallen to death. 

But while Uncle Ely and Buck and Ginger stood 
motionless with interest and surprise, these remark¬ 
able beasts did the impossible. In fewer seconds than 
it takes to tell, the bighorns had disappeared. Not 
until then could the children even breathe again. 

“Whee-e-e-eeew!" whistled Buck, turning to look 
up at Uncle Ely. 

“Me, too, Buck! That's something we won't forget!" 


76 


WILD AMERICANS 


Ginger could only stare at the two others, and at 
the spot where the animals had been. The three sat 
down there on the high, narrow trail, to rest and talk 
about it. 

“We needed a moving'picture camera,” said Uncle 
Ely. “But we would have been too excited to use it, 
I suppose. Wasn’t he a picture? I believe his horns 
were bigger than those down in the cabin.” 

“Yes!” both children agreed. 

“Well, anyhow, children, you have seen something 
not many people ever will see. A family of Rocky 
Mountain bighorns, on their native heath. I’ve heard 
of them all my life, seen pictures of them, talked to 
hunters who killed them years ago. But I never ex' 
pected to meet a pair of horns like that, face to face.” 

“Amamand I d-don’t want to again, either!” de^ 
dared Buck, heartily. 

Ginger and Uncle Ely laughed out loud, and Buck 
joined them. 

I imagine the ram was as frightened as we were,” 
said Uncle Ely, and I never heard of one attacking a 
man. It is a fact, however, that he can show a good 
fight to anything else he is likely to meet. An old 
trapper once told me of seeing a short fight between 
a bighorn and a grizzly bear.” 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN BIGHORN 


77 


“Which won?” asked Buck quickly. 

“Neither. The bighorn butted hard, and so fast 
that the bear was taken by surprise at first. But then 
the grizzly got mad and knocked the ram down with 
one terrific blow. After that they called a truce, each 
respectful of the other. Probably the grizzly would 
have won, if they had kept on fighting.” 

“I bet it was fun to watch,” said Buck. 

Ginger shuddered a little at the thought. She still 
remembered how frightening the big ram had been 
when they met him unexpectedly. 

“These sheep grow to weigh three hundred pounds 
or more,” Uncle Ely continued, “but that’s not near' 
ly as much as a grizzly bear might weigh. On the 
other hand, it is about as much as a big mountain lion 
weighs. I am told that the mountain lion respects 
the wild sheep’s horns.” 

“Then what is the bighorn’s chief enemy, Uncle 
Ely?” asked Ginger. “You said that almost every anb 
mal was preyed on by some other. 

“The wild sheep’s chief enemy is the eagle.” 

“The eagle?” Both children were indeed surprised. 
How could a mere bird, even though a large one, 
hurt so large and ferocious a thing as a Rocky Mourn 
tain bighorn? 


78 


WILD AMERICANS 


“Yes, sir, the eagle," Uncle Ely declared. “I don't 
mean that eagles attack grown sheep. But eagles do 
carry off many little lambs. Eagles fly around the 
mountain tops, where these wild sheep live. A baby 
lamb is a dainty bit for the eagle family to eat, so the 
big bird will swoop down, pick up the baby, and be 
gone with it. Of course, the mother sheep would 
fight, but the eagle appears unexpectedly, and quick" 
ly flies beyond her reach. All the mother ewe 
can do is to hide her lamb and guard it as best she 
can." 

Billy Buck took a deep breath, thrilled again at the 
true story of drama in the wilderness. Every time 
Uncle Ely took the children out in the fields or fon 
ests, it seemed, they learned new facts about conflict, 
danger, and excitement among Nature's wild crea" 
tures. Buck stared down the steep rocky slope where 
the bighorn family had fled a few minutes before. 

“I can't understand why they weren't all killed," 
he said. 

“Nor I," agreed Uncle Ely, “except that they are 
such expert climbers and jumpers. They have learned 
to be so by long years of training, because of the 
rough country where they live. There are several 
kinds of these wild sheep with the great circular 


THE ROCKY MOUNTAIN BIGHORN 79 

horns. Although scarce now, they once were com' 
mon all the way from Mexico in the south to Alaska 
in the far north. They have always lived in the mourn 
tains, near the tops of mountains, where the scenery 
is grandest and the scrubby leaves and grass grow 
more to their liking. I think we may always regard 
the bighorn as America’s finest mountaineer.” 



Chapter XI 

THE SKUNK: A Fearless Enemy 

“Gather some dry wood for the campfire, chih 
dren,” Father called to Buck and Ginger. The family 
had stopped for the night, although the sun was not 
yet down. They were far from any town. 

Presently, from a distance, came Buck’s call. 

“Unde E'e-e-ly!” 

“Yes!” Uncle Ely shouted back. 

“Come quickly, here is a strange animal.” 

“What is it?” 

“A cat! A beautiful kitty!” Ginger called out. 

“Does it have a white stripe down its back?” Uncle 
Ely was highly interested now. 


THE SKUNK 


81 


“Yes, sir, it does." The children answered together. 

Uncle Ely laughed. Then he spoke to Mother as 
he walked away, “Better get out some fresh clothing 
for the children, Mary," he grinned at her. “They'll 
need it." 

Soon he was standing beside Buck and Ginger. 

“There are a mother and three babies," whispered 
Buck. “They don't act wild at all, Uncle Ely. Maybe 
I could catch them. They saw us, and they didn't 
run." 

Uncle Ely was sniffing. “You both all right?" he 
demanded. 

“Yes, sir. Why?" 

“Well, you're lucky. I really don't smell a thing. 
Not yet. Guess you didn't disturb them. I have told 
you to be quiet around strange animals, and it's a 
good thing you took my advice." 

“Why, Uncle Ely?" 

“That's not a cat and kittens, Ginger," Uncle Ely 
explained. “That's a very beautiful animal with a 
very ugly name—a skunk. Those are her babies. 
Baby skunks. They have fine fur." 

“Will they harm us?" 

“Not if you let them alone. But if you should even 
threaten one—goodness!" 


82 


WILD AMERICANS 


Buck was not afraid. The animals were too small, 
and his little sister was there, anyway. He alway., 
liked to be her protector. 

“Shall I get a stick and frighten them away, Uncle 
Ely?” Buck asked. 

“They will not run, Buck. They will lift their tails 
and let you run.” 

The children stared at Uncle Ely, questioningly. 
He had a twinkle in his eyes, yet he was serious, too. 

“I mean it,” Uncle Ely declared. “Skunks are not 
afraid of anything, not even of big bears, dogs, lions, 
or of man. You noticed that they paid very little 
attention to you, when every other creature would 
have fled at once.” 

“Yes, sir; but—” 

Uncle Ely motioned the children to sit down. 

“Just be quiet and watch them,” he continued. 
“See, the mother is leading her babies slowly away 
now. They are nosing in the grass for mice, grass- 
hoppers, or other bits to eat. But if you disturb them 
the strangest thing will happen. They will shower 
you with a terrible gas!” 

“Gas?” 

“Yes, indeed, gas. Just under each skunk's tail are 
two very small nipples. From them the animal can 


THE SKUNK 


83 


squirt a spoonful or so of yellowish liquid. When he 
lifts his tail and squats ever so slightly, he can squirt 
it as far as fifteen feet. 

“This liquid comes out in a fine spray, and instantly 
turns to vapor. Then it is somewhat like gas from 
your cookstove at home, except that it smells much 
worse. Much worse! It is the worst'smelling odor in 
the world, I suppose.” 

Buck and Ginger were staring in wonder. 

“Is it poisonous?” Buck asked. “Like war gas?” 

“No, not quite that bad. It could put out your 
eyes, or even suffocate you if you were in a small 
cave or hollow log with it. But it just smells! Its 
smell is so very unpleasant that all other animals fear 
it. It lingers for days, if it gets on your clothing or 
body. The skunk has long ago learned that other 
animals will let it alone, if it merely squirts out a bit 
of gas, so it doesn't try to fight or run. It doesn't have 
to. That's what I meant by lifting their tails and 
letting you run. Come on; it is best to go away from 
them and let them alone. If they try to squirt us, we 
may have to move our entire camp.” 

With Buck holding one hand and Ginger the other, 
the big outdoor man led them back to the car and 
trailer. He sat down in his folding chair. 


84 


WILD AMERICANS 


“Would they come here to our camp, Uncle Ely?” 
Ginger was a little worried. 

“Not likely. If they do, let them. It might even 
be possible to catch them and handle them gently, 
with no harm done. Once I saw some boys in a camp 
capture a skunk family and make pets of the animals. 
Nobody ever smelled the scent, until a curious dog 
came up barking one day. Then everybody smelled 
it!” 

The children laughed at that. Even Mother and 
Father smiled. 

“Where do they live? I mean, where is their 
nest?” asked Ginger. 

“Oh, in a log or burrow somewhere. They hiber¬ 
nate in winter, as bears do; make a bed in some pro¬ 
tected hole and sleep until spring. One burrow may 
have two or three families of skunks, all piled up to¬ 
gether, snug and warm.” 

“And smelly,” suggested Buck. 

“Maybe,” admitted Uncle Ely, “but not much. 
They don't have to throw out their awful smell un¬ 
less they want to. It is just a means of protection. 
Nature gave some animals sharp teeth and claws with 
which to fight; to some she gave speed, so they could 
run from danger; to some she gave protective color- 


THE SKUNK 


85 


ing, so they could hide easily. But Nature gave the 
skunk none of these. She gave the skunk that strange 
chemical weapon, but it is enough. Only a few barn 
owls, and an occasional wild dog will brave the odor 
in order to eat a skunk .' 1 

The children looked doubtful, as if they didn't 
fully understand. Buck spoke, “I just don't see how 
an unpleasant odor can be good protection," said the 
boy. 

“Best way is to learn for yourselves," Uncle Ely 
admitted. “Go throw a stick at the skunks. Don't 
get too close. But come back and let me know what 
you think." 

The children ran off, delighted to look further into 
this interesting matter. It was nearly an hour before 
they returned. 

Nobody said anything to them at first. Everyone 
was quietly eating supper, but the three grown people 
were smiling ever so little. Nobody even mentioned 
the skunks again until bedtime. Then Ginger poked 
her head out the trailer window and called from her 
bunk, “Uncle Ely, you were right about the skunks. 
They're awful T 



Chapter XII 

THE GILA MONSTER: An Arizona Stranger 

The Blair automobile and trailer pulled to a stop 
beside the road in southern Arizona. Great cactus 
trees, leafless but covered with thorns, were thick on 
every side. 

Father Blair had been driving, and he got out to 
stretch his legs. He hadn’t gone twenty feet when 
something caught his eye. 

“Hello!” he exclaimed. “What’s this?” 

“Did you call?” Mother asked from the trailer. 


86 


THE GILA MONSTER 


87 


“Why, no. I mean, yes, I did. Ive found some" 
thing. Looks like an alligator with an Indian rug on 
his back !' 1 

“What are you talking about ? 11 Mother demanded. 
Buck and Ginger bounced out of the car and ran to 
Father's side. 

“Hold on, now," Father warned. 'This may be a 
kiwolopus. Better go easy until we know. See him 
there in the sand?" 

“O-o-o-o-oh!" breathed Ginger, staring. 

“What's a kiwolopus, Daddy?" Buck asked. 

“Any kind of animal whose name you don't know. 
It's just a make-believe word." 

“Then you don't know what that is?" Ginger was 
anxious. 

“No," said Father, “I do not. Fortunately, we have 
Ely with us. He is the animal man on this trip. Oh, 
E-ly!" 

Uncle Ely had heard the talking, and now he came 
to look at the beast. He stared at it a moment, threw 
a pebble at it, and grunted a little to himself. 

“Um, hum, 1 ’' he mumbled. “Some kind of baby 
alligator, or something. But I never heard of one 
with colors like that." 

Buck was excited. 


88 


WILD AMERICANS 


“Yes, sir! Look. It has tiny black and orange beads 
all over it. They’re in a strange design.” 

“Doesn’t look long enough for an alligator, Uncle 
Ely,” Ginger suggested. 

“HI bet it’s some sort of reptile. It has legs like a 
lizard, and its about as long as my forearm.” Uncle 
Ely was studying the creature. 

“It doesn’t run away fast, as a lizard would do,” 
Mother suggested this. The animal was moving very 
sluggishly, seeming to pay no attention to the people. 

The group devoted some time to poking the ani- 
mal with sticks, pitching sand on it, and trying to 
make it run or fight. Mother and Ginger were afraid 
of it. Its face was horrible-looking, they declared, 
although the beaded pattern of its back was oddly 
beautiful. 

“Moves too lazily for any lizard,” Uncle Ely sound¬ 
ed as if he were talking to himself. “Too fat and 
stubby, too. No water within many miles of here, so 
it can’t be some kind of alligator. Besides, it’s not 
shaped like an alligator at all.” 

“What’ll we do about it, Uncle Ely?” Buck asked. 

“Well, Buck, I told you to ask questions whenever 
you didn’t know, or didn’t understand something. I 
intend to take my own advice.” 


THE GILA MONSTER 


89 


“But there is nobody near us. How can you ask 
anybody?" 

“I shall put the reptile in a box or bag and take 
him into the state capital. That's Phoenix, the next 
city. We can find somebody there who knows what 
he is." 

Mother was alarmed at this. 

“He can't ride with me!" she announced firmly. 

The two men smiled at her, and Uncle Ely ex¬ 
plained that he would keep the strange animal safe¬ 
ly in a box right beside him, and Mother could ride 
in another seat. 

It was three hours later that the Blairs rolled into 
the city of Phoenix. Uncle Ely asked about the 
schools there. He learned that a Mr. Wilson in the 
high school was a science teacher who knew all about 
the animals of Arizona. Soon the beaded fellow had 
been placed on Mr. Wilson's lawn. 

“You wouldn't know much about him, probably," 
said the teacher, “because he lives only in Arizona 
and Mexico. He is the only poisonous lizard in the 
world. You were wise not to try to handle him. We 
call him the Gila Monster, because he is common 
along the Gila River. That's where you were when 
you found him. 


90 


WILD AMERICANS 


"He is not quick to strike, as is a rattlesnake, for 
instance; and he does not have fangs that inject poi¬ 
son as a rattlers do. But poison flows from his lower 
jaw and may easily infect any wound his teeth make. 
A few people have been killed by Gila Monsters, and 
others have been bitten without suffering harm." 

Buck and Ginger asked many questions about the 
odd lizard. They learned that he eats such things as 
birds 1 eggs and mice, and that nobody is quite sure 
why he has a peculiar beaded pattern on his skin. 
The design is, as Father said in the beginning, some¬ 
what like that of a Navajo Indian rug. They learned 
that Gila is pronounced " Hee-lali ," because it is a 
Spanish name. G in Spanish is sounded like the 
English H, I like E. 

"Mr. Wilson, Ed like to take one of these home," 
Uncle Ely said. "He is interesting enough to have—" 

Mother spoke up at once, however. 

"Ely Blair, you will not take that thing another 
mile in this car or trailer! If you do, I will walk the 
rest of the way!" 

Ginger slipped her hand into her mother's, looked 
up at her and smiled. 

"I will walk with you, Mother," she said, while 
everyone laughed. 



Chapter XIII 

THE PELICAN AND THE GULLS: 

A Strange Rivalry 

“Billy Bu'U-U'U'Uck!” 

Ginger Blair screamed in fright. Buck, playing on 
the other side of a huge rock, thought she must have 
fallen into the ocean. This was the family’s first day 
at the seashore, after two weeks of motoring. Buck 
ran as fast as he could. 


91 


92 


WILD AMERICANS 


“What’s the matter, Sister? What is it?” The 
waves were a little rough on this stretch of seacoast, 
but Ginger wore her bathing suit and the water 
wasn’t over her head for a long way out. Buck could 
see nothing to alarm her at first. 

“I don’t know,” she answered him, “only it had a 
mouth as long as my arm, and a suitcase hanging un¬ 
der it, and it stared at me, and it had big wings, and 
I’m sure he flew at me, and—” 

Uncle Ely had heard Ginger scream also, and had 
come running. 

“Are you talking about the pelican?” Uncle Ely 
asked. “The big fellow that just flew away?” 

“Y-yes, sir. He looked so queer, and—” 

Uncle Ely chuckled at her. “I don’t blame you for 
being scared a little. But a pelican won’t hurt any¬ 
body. He is one of the friendliest birds we have.” 

“But he flew at me, Uncle Ely!” 

“He just wanted to see what you were doing. Per¬ 
haps he saw a fish in the water near you. He’s a great 
fisherman. He has better luck than I have at fishing.” 

“Does he use a hook?” asked Ginger. 

Buck glared at her, because he knew better than to 
ask such a question. 

“No,” Uncle Ely grinned. “He uses a dip net. 


THE PELICAN AND THE GULLS 


93 


That’s what the long pouch under his bill is. That 
suitcase, as you call it, can hold six or eight good- 
sized fish. He stores them, there until he is ready to 
swallow them, or he takes them to the young birds 
in his nest.” 

“Where do pelicans make their nests?” 

“High in trees, or sometimes on a cliff, near the 
seashore. Let’s sit quietly here in the shade, and 
watch those two yonder.” 

The two pelicans seemed to be staring at the man 
and children for a long time. Then one of them 
flapped away. He was truly an immense bird, appar¬ 
ently as large as a young turkey. His bill and pouch 
made him appear queer, and his neck was curved like 
the letter S. 

He flew gracefully, almost touching the water, dip¬ 
ping down in the troughs of the big waves and rising 
over their crests. Suddenly he made a quick splash. 
He had seen a fish near the surface of the water and 
dipped it into his great beak. 

The second pelican saw the catch, so he promptly 
flew over that way also. This one’s beak-pouch was 
nearly full, because it was hanging down more. Nev¬ 
ertheless, he hovered over the waves a moment, and 
then dived into the water also. 


94 


WILD AMERICANS 


By chance, however, a sea gull saw that last bit of 
fishing. A gull is much the smaller bird, resembling 
a duck. When he saw the pelican catch the fish, he 
made a cry that sounded like a wild scream. 

In a moment several other gulls appeared and 
quickly they all circled about the great pelican. The 
pelican flew back toward the shore, fortunately right 
near the spot where the children and Uncle Ely were 
crouching. 

The gulls were screaming and darting at the bigger 
bird, pecking at him, and doing all they could to an¬ 
noy him. 

He tried to fly away, but they headed him back, 
circling around him in the air, making a penetrating 
noise with their voices and flapping wings. He 
dodged, but he couldn't get away. More gulls came, 
and soon a dozen or more were annoying him. 

Finally, he could stand it no longer, so the pelican 
opened his great "suitcase mouth" and out dropped 
all the fish. Buck and Ginger counted them, or tried 
to. Buck counted seven, and Ginger thought she saw 
eight or nine. Uncle Ely wasn't sure, either, but he 
did notice that the fish were all longer than his hand. 

As the fish fell out, the gulls darted after them in¬ 
stantly. Most of them were caught in the air before 


THE PELICAN AND THE GULLS 95 

they could even fall to the sand. Two or three birds 
would catch the same fish, then engage in a noisy 
squabbling over it until one could snatch it and fly 
away. It was very exciting to watch, but it made the 
children angry too. 

“That was mean ! 11 exclaimed Ginger. 

“Seems like it , 11 agreed Uncle Ely. “And yet, I 
don't know. The pelican can catch more fish. Prob- 
ably he had been too greedy . 11 

“He shouldn't carry his fish around with him too 
long, if he wants to keep them," suggested Buck. “A 
man doesn't carry, a lot of money, you said, Uncle 
Ely, because someone might steal it. And pirates used 
to raid treasure ships." 

“Now that's an idea! Maybe the pelican was care- 
less. He must have known the gulls were pirates. 
Anyway, we have just seen a friendly, harmless old 
bird have his treasures taken away from him by a 
flock of gulls. Wasn't that interesting?" 

“Yes!" agreed both children with enthusiasm. 

“However, don't hold the idea that gulls are noth- 
ing but thieves. They are really very fine birds, good 
friends of man. The pelican can avoid them when he 
really tries. Mother Nature usually arranges those 
things properly." 


96 


WILD AMERICANS 


“I think Mother Nature is very wise, don’t you. 
Uncle Ely?” 

“Yes, Buck. Far, far wiser than most people ever 
imagine she is.” 











Chapter XIV 

THE EAGLE: Majestic Sky King 
Sometimes when people are traveling for days on 
end, it is hard to amuse themselves. All kinds of make- 
believe games must be played as they skim along the 
highways, because they grow tired of looking at the 
scenery, and tired of talking. Buck and Ginger and 
the others of the Blair family found this so. 

“Let’s ask riddles,” Ginger suggested one after- 


97 


98 


WILD AMERICANS 


noon. “Can't you ask us some animal riddles, Uncle 
Ely?" 

Uncle Ely thought for a moment. 

“What bird has his picture in more places than 
any other bird?" he then asked. 

Nobody answered for a moment. Everyone was 
trying to think. 

“Bluebird," said Mother. 

“No." 

“Dove," said Ginger. “It is in my Bible." 

“No." 

“Mockingbird?" 

“No." 

The children began talking to themselves. “What 
can it be?" 

“You have pictures of it in your pocket right now, 
Buck," said Uncle Ely. 

“Who? I have? Why, I haven't! I haven't any 
pictures in my pockets." 

“Yes, you have! Show me everything in your right- 
hand trousers pocket." 

Buck pulled out a penknife, a dried pine cone, some 
brightly colored rocks, two rubber bands, two sticks 
of chewing gum, a nickel, a quarter, and a silver dol¬ 
lar that Father had given him. 


















THE EAGLE 


101 


“There, see? I win!” Uncle Ely pointed. 

“I don't see any picture of a bird.” 

“Look on that silver dollar. There's an eagle!” 

“Oooo!” breathed Buck and Ginger together, 
staring at the coin. “Yes, sir, it is. I never thought 
of that!” 

. The riddle led to a long talk. Uncle Ely reminded 
the children that there are millions of coins in use 
that have the American eagle on them. Right away 
everybody, even Mother, wanted to know all about 
the American eagle. Mother remembered that his 
picture appears on the United States official coat'ofi 
arms and has been our American symbol for many 
years, but she didn't know much about the wild bird 
himself. 

“He prefers to live near lakes,” said Uncle Ely. 
“We will try to see one, for our map indicates that 
we are coming to a fine wilderness region with sew 
eral lakes, and perhaps the hunters haven't killed all 
the birds. Eagles like the seacoast, too.” 

“Do eagles swim like ducks, Uncle Ely?” asked 
Buck. 

“No. No, I didn't mean that. I mean they live 
near water because the food they like most is fish. 
An eagle can see a fish near the surface of the water, 


102 


WILD AMERICANS 


and suddenly dart down to catch it in his great claws, 
callen talons. 

“Sometimes he will see another bird, such as an 
osprey, with a fish in its claws, and will attack this 
smaller bird. The osprey may be flying very high, 
but he will drop his fish to flee, knowing that the 
eagle is a dangerous enemy. At once the eagle dives 
like a bullet, catches the fish in the air, and flies off 
to his nest or some other secluded place to eat it.” 

“Goodness!” exclaimed Ginger. 

“Then the eagle is a thief!” Buck declared. 

“Yes, in a way. But Nature made him that way, 
remember. After all, the osprey had taken the fish 
from its water home. In one sense, you steal a calf 
from its mother when you butcher it for food. It is 
Nature’s plan for some animals to prey on others.” 

Buck was staring at the picture of the bird on his 
silver dollar. 

“He looks fierce, all right,” he remarked. “What 
kind of an eagle is he, Uncle Ely?” 

“We call him the Bald Eagle. Actually he is not 
bald. His head and neck feathers, and those on his 
tail, are snow'white. If you see this bird sitting high 
on a tree, his head looks like frosted silver, and when 
he flies he has a wide wingspread and he moves with 


THE EAGLE 


103 


slow and powerful strokes. Often he seems to float 
through the air. 

“He doesn’t get his white feathers until he is four 
years old. Therefore, as a young bird he is easily 
mistaken for his kinsman, the Golden Eagle, whose 
feathers are dark brown.” 

Father Blair had a question at this point. 

“You say he just loo\s bald, Ely, and really isn’t 
bald? Then we have misnamed him, haven’t we?” 

“Certainly have, Bob. Ought to be named Silver 
Eagle, or something like that. However, I suppose 
American Eagle is his real name.” 

“That’s right,” agreed Father. “I hope we will see 
one. How big is he, and where does he nest?” 

“Why, as I recall, American eagles grow to be 
about three feet tall, taller than a turkey. Their 
wings may spread as much as seven or eight feet; thus 
you can see how an eagle might carry off a lamb or 
other small animal. They prefer fish, however.” 

“Usually these eagles nest in high trees, along the 
seacoast or near a lake. Sometimes the nest is on a 
cliff ledge. The nest may be as large as six feet across 
and six feet high, made of a wagon load of sticks and 
rubbish. The female Bald eagle will lay two dull 
white eggs. Her eaglets are brave little fellows who 


104 


WILD AMERICANS 


eat the fish and other game the parent birds bring. 
They tear it to pieces with their sharp claws and 
curved beaks/’ 

After the Blair family had made camp at the end 
of that day, Uncle Ely and the children looked long 
at the sky for eagles, but they saw only one, soaring 
very high. They watched often during the following 
week there, without further success. Uncle Ely was 
very much disappointed. He knew that thoughtless 
men have been shooting eagles for many years, so 
that these birds are very hard to find, although once 
they were to be seen in every part of our country. 

The American eagle has been called the sky king, 
because he is such a large, strong bird that he can 
rule the air. He flies high over mountains and vah 
leys, and his castle nest is high in the air. He has 
few enemies, except man. 

At the end of their week at the wilderness lake, 
Uncle Ely suddenly had an idea. 

"Children,” he called to Buck and Ginger, "I fon 
got to tell you one thing about the eagle. We have 
a United States coin named for him. It is made of 
gold. We don’t see this coin outside of banks very 
often, but we call it an 'eagle,’ and it is worth ten 
dollars.” 



Chapter XV 

THE BEAVER: Chief Gnawer 
One morning, in the same forest where the Blairs 
had seen the eagle, Buck and Ginger hiked half a 
mile from their camp to an icy stream. But when 
they came to a small pond with some very strange 
thin gs in it, the children hastened back to camp. 

“Uncle Ely, we found some Eskimo houses in 
water!” Ginger exclaimed. 

“Anyhow they looked like Eskimo houses,” Buck 
added. “They were made of mud and sticks, and 


105 



106 


WILD AMERICANS 


they were round. One of them was as big as—nearly 
as big as our trailer, wasn’t it, Sister?” 

“Yes,” Ginger agreed. 

“Seems as though we ought to go and see them,” 
suggested Uncle Ely, and so the three started back 
to the pond. Father Blair had overheard the con' 
versation, so he went with them. 

“Probably those water houses are where the beaver 
and his family live,” Uncle Ely explained as they 
walked. “An Indian once told me that his people had 
a special name for the beaver. The name was Chief 
Gnawer, because this animal can gnaw down trees 
for food, and for building dams and houses. But let’s 
not forget to be quiet as we come near the pond.” 

“I remember about beavers,” Father spoke in a 
low tone to the group. “Used to see them when we 
were boys, remember, Ely? They made dams of their 
logs, and made houses of the smaller limbs and sticks. 
They certainly can gnaw, all right. They eat the 
bark of the trees they cut down.” 

“Why do they eat bark, Daddy?” asked Buck. “I 
didn’t know anything would eat tree bark.” 

Oh, yes. Because they like it, I suppose, and it is 
nourishing for them. They do not eat bark from just 
any tree, do they, Ely? I believe they eat only the 






































V 







































































' 








■ 






























































































































































































f 






















♦ 
























































































































































THE BEAVER 


109 


barks that are juicy and tender, such as poplar, cot¬ 
tonwood, aspen, elm, birch, and willow. They won't 
eat hickory and oak, I know." 

“That's right," Uncle Ely agreed. 

“Well, I want to see a beaver," Ginger said. 

“So do I," said Buck. 

The four waited for a long time, but when Mother 
finally tooted the car horn for them they still hadn't 
seen a beaver. They went back to the camp and ate 
lunch, still talking about Chief Gnawer. 

“We will have to wait until nearly sundown to see 
them, I suppose," Uncle Ely told the family. “Bea¬ 
vers are night animals. I mean, they do most of their 
work in the dark, and do not appear until late after¬ 
noon. This is a good place to camp, so let's spend 
the day here and watch for them. Maybe I can catch 
a few fish for our supper." 

The family agreed. During the afternoon Buck 
caught three fish himself, while Mother showed Gin¬ 
ger how to make a fairy dress, using large leaves 
pinned together with thorns. About five o'clock Un¬ 
cle Ely said that he had slipped some poles out of the 
beavers' dam earlier, and that they probably would 
be at work repairing the dam about nightfall. 

At twilight all five of the travelers were close to 


110 


WILD AMERICANS 


the pond, carefully hidden, and quietly watching. 
Soon two dark beavers as large as dogs slipped out 
of the water. They were sleek and shiny, and very 
graceful. They had small eyes, small ears, feet with 
claws on them—and strange tails. 

“Look! His tail is flat like a trowel !’ 1 Buck ex¬ 
claimed, in an excited whisper. 

“Sh-h-h,” cautioned Mother. “He uses that to 
plaster mud on his houses and dams . 11 

Uncle Ely and Father turned at once toward Moth¬ 
er, shaking their heads. “No, Mary, you are mis¬ 
taken there, 1 ' Father declared, “beavers do not use 
their flat tails to plaster mud. They carry mud in 
their front paws, holding it against their breasts as 
they swim, and pat it over the sticks with their front 
paws also. A beaver’s tail is used only for swim¬ 
ming.'’ 

“Are you sure?” Mother whispered. 

Uncle Ely answered for Father. “Yes, he’s right, 
Mary. However, many people have your idea. I 
have even seen it in books. People once thought 
beavers did use their tails for trowels, but this has 
been proven incorrect.” 

The beavers soon discovered the spot where Un¬ 
cle Ely had removed a stick or two from their dam. 


THE BEAVER 


111 


At once they began to replace the sticks and plaster 
over the leak. 

“They build dams in order to have deep water for 
their houses ,' 1 Father explained, holding one arm 
around Ginger and one around Mother. “They like 
deep water. It protects them from enemies. They 
store limbs under it for winter food. You do not see 
any doors to their houses, do you? The openings, 
which could be called doors, are always under water. 
It is in these queer water houses that baby beavers 
are bom. They have fine fur, like that of their 
parents. 

“Notice how strong their jaws are, and what huge 
teeth they have. That is why these animals are such 
good gnawers. Their front teeth are like chisels, they 
are so strong and sharp. Even the baby beavers soon 
learn to cut into bark for food, and to cut down small 
trees." 

One great big beaver seemed to be swimming about 
trying to direct the others, although he did a great 
deal of work also. Soon the watchers were able to 
count ten beavers swimming with sticks or mud, all 
hard at work. It was very interesting to peep at them 
through cracks in the bushes. 

Suddenly, however, Buck sneezed. 


112 


WILD AMERICANS 


Instantly the big beaver slapped down on the water 
with his broad tail. The noise was loud, like that 
heard when water is struck with an oar or a flat 
board. 

In a twinkling the pond was quiet. Every beaver 
had disappeared! 

“Well, the show's over," Uncle Ely said, speaking 
aloud now. “That big fellow slapped his tail as a 
warning. He heard or saw Buck sneeze, and was 
afraid enemies were near. They will all stay under 
water for quite a while now. I'm hungry anyway, so 
let's go to supper." 

Buck was sad and very much chagrined as he said, 
“I'm sorry." 

But it didn't help to be sorry. 

“When you are studying wild animals in their na- 
tive homes and playgrounds, you must learn to be 
very quiet, even if you have to swallow a sneeze," 
advised Uncle Ely as they walked back to the trailer. 



Chapter XVI 

THE WILD BISON: A Former Westerner 

Billy Buck Blair’s eyes sparkled with mischief. 

“Uncle Ely,” he said, presently, “You have an ani¬ 
mal in your pocket.” 

“What did you say?” 

“I say you have an animal in your pocket.” 

Uncle Ely smiled. “Now, now, Buck, you can’t 
catch me on that one. Remember—I caught you on 
the one about the eagle.” 


113 




114 


WILD AMERICANS 


“I don’t mean the eagle on the coin, Uncle Ely. 
The animal in your pocket is much bigger than an 
eagle,” answered Buck. 

Uncle Ely thought hard for a few seconds. 

"I don’t understand. No, I believe you are wrong. 
If it’s not an eagle, then I’m sure I have no animal in 
my pocket.” 

Ginger began to giggle. She knew about Buck’s 
secret. 

"Will you buy us an ice cream cone'if we prove it 
to you, Uncle Ely?” she asked. 

"Yes.” 

"A double-decked cone, one for each of us?” she 
questioned. 

Uncle Ely pretended to frown at this hard bar¬ 
gain. He screwed up his face and glared at the chil¬ 
dren. But finally he smiled and agreed. 

"It’s a buffalo! On your nickel, Uncle Ely!” Both 
children explained, and laughed. 

"All right, all right, I’ll buy the ice cream,” he 
agreed, laughing with them. "I forgot all about the 
buffalo nickels. But do you know something? I real¬ 
ly wouldn’t have to pay if I didn’t want to.” 

"Why?” asked Buck. By this time the lad was very 
much interested. 







































































































































































































































































. 

























































THE WILD BISON 


117 


“Because that animal on our buffalo nickels is not 
a buffalo. It’s a bison. 1 ’ 

“A bison?” 

“Yes. Buffaloes have never lived in America. 
They are found only in Africa and Asia. Buffaloes 
never have hump backs, as our American animal has. 
Ours is really a true bison, but the early white men 
made the mistake in naming him, and the mistake 
was never corrected. The big shaggy, humped crea- 
ture is so widely known as buffalo now that he will 
never be called by his correct name.” 

Father Blair, who was riding in the sedan with Ely 
and the children, was greatly interested in this. 

“Are you joking, Ely, or serious?” he asked. “I 
never heard that before.” 

“I’m not joking. Our buffalo is misnamed. We 
might even call him Wild Bill Bison, if we care to, 
for he was once a very wild fellow. When white 
men came into the western states, they found more 
bison than any other animal.” 

Buck had taken a “buffalo” nickel from his pocket 
and was staring at it. 

“He looks like a great big cow, doesn’t he, Uncle 
Ely?” 

“That’s right. That’s what he is, in a way. He is 


118 


WILD AMERICANS 


closely related to the cow. He has hoofs that are 
split. He eats grass and other vegetable matter. 
However, he is larger than most cows. The largest 
one I ever heard of was killed years ago, and weighed 
a little more than two thousand pounds . 11 

Then Uncle Ely told them that they probably 
would see one very soon. Within a day or two, he 
promised, they would be in one of the national parks, 
and in this great park would be a small herd of wild 
bison. There they would rent saddle horses and ride 
out to see the big animals. 

In due time the promise was fulfilled. Mother rode 
with the rest of the family, although she was a little 
afraid of her horse at first. They saw nearly fifty 
bison the first few hours of their ride. Some of the 
animals were unafraid and permitted the people to 
come quite close. 

"Look at the long beard on this one, Uncle Ely ! 11 
Ginger noticed that first. 

"That's right. He has whiskers that hang down a 
foot or more. I don't know why he has them." 

"Look at his mane," Buck added. "Long hair 
around his neck and shoulders, almost like the big 
African lion that we saw in the circus." 

"But not much hair on his hind quarters," Uncle 


THE WILD BISON 


119 


Ely added. “See how the hair and the hump make 
his front legs look longer than his rear legs?” 

“Oh, look at that!” Mother suddenly exclaimed. 
“Its a baby, a real baby bison!” 

Everyone looked. They were delighted to see the 
little fellow. It had been hidden at first behind its 
mother, who stood near. 

“Nice-looking calf, sure enough,” said Uncle Ely. 

“Cutest thing I ever saw!” Father was saying, “I 
wish we could buy one to keep.” 

“Huh!” Uncle Ely grumbled. “This calf will grow 
up to be a bull like that one yonder, with sharp horns. 
He'd toss you over the house some day.” 

They enjoyed visiting the herd for the remainder 
of that morning. 

“One more thing you ought to remember about 
the bison,” said Uncle Ely that night. “Most of his 
kind have been killed. When white men were build¬ 
ing the first railroads into western America, there 
were herds in which roamed millions of wild bison. 
As the herds passed across the tracks, sometimes they 
would actually stop trains for hours at a time; or in 
swimming rivers they would block the progress of 
boats. 

“Their flesh was eaten by Indians and white men 


120 


WILD AMERICANS 


alike. Their hides were used for blankets and cloth¬ 
ing and teepees. The bison were the most important 
wild animals of North America. 

"Today only a few hundred of the animals are left, 
such as the herd in this National Park, and in some 
zoos. I understand now that their numbers are in¬ 
creasing again, and if you children want to be help¬ 
ful Americans, you will promise yourselves to do 
what you can to protect them as you grow up. It 
will be a patriotic thing to do. 1 ’ - 





Chapter XVII 

THE BEAR: Monarch of the Wild 
One afternoon as the Blair car and trailer were 
rolling smoothly along with Uncle Ely driving, he 
began to sing: 

“Oh Lawd, ef you cain’t help dis nigger, 

Please don’ you help dat grizzly bar!” 

At once Father joined in. They were singing in 
Negro dialect, a song in story about a colored man 



122 


WILD AMERICANS 


who went hunting and found a grizzly bear. The 
Negro was so frightened by the big bear that he fon 
got all about his gun. He ran to a tree and climbed 
it, and the bear sat down under the tree to wait. 
Buck and Ginger were delighted with the song. 
When the two men had finished, Buck demanded: 

“Did the bear ever get him, Uncle Ely? 1 ’ 

“I don't know. Probably not, although I don't be^ 
lieve the song tells. I imagine the bear grew tired of 
waiting." 

“Would the bear have hurt the man?" 

Uncle Ely answered, “Yes, very likely. A grizzly 
bear is monarch of the wild. He is the strongest, 
most ferocious fighter in North America. 

“Yes, sir! I mean it. I have seen only two grizzlies, 
outside of zoos, but I have talked to many a trapper 
and hunter about them. They are the wildest animal 
we have. However, very few of them are left now." 

Mother added, “You are right, Ely! I have read 
about them. They can even kill cows or horses with 
one blow of their great paws, they are so strong. 

“Yes," continued Mother, “they were such big 
dangerous animals, and so common when pioneers 
settled our country, that many stories and songs have 
been written about them. Father and Uncle Ely 


THE BEAR 


123 


were singing one comic song. There are many more . 11 

“Why didn't the bear climb the tree and get the 
colored man, Uncle Ely ? 11 Buck asked. 

“It's a good question, Buck. I expect you have seen 
pictures of bears up in trees, haven't you?" 

“Yes, sir." 

“Well, it happens that those were other kinds of 
bears. Fortunately, the grimly doesn't climb trees. 
I'm not sure why he doesn't, but he doesn't. He can 
swim and fight and run very fast, but I never heard 
of one climbing. This has saved many a man's life. 

“In the old days, when your grandfather was a boy, 
grizzlies were plentiful in our United States, especially 
in our western mountain country. Hunters and set' 
tiers did not know at first how fierce grizzlies were. 
A man would raise his rifle and shoot, but the bear 
wouldn't fall. He would just keep coming toward 
him, growling and snarling enough to scare even the 
bravest hunter. He would dash right up to the man, 
knock him over with one terrific blow, clawing him 
at the same time. I believe it is said that grizzlies 
killed more outdoorsmen than any other beast. The 
ordinary rifle would only wound a grizzly and make 
him more dangerous, although he might die later." 

All the travelers were greatly interested in what 


124 


WILD AMERICANS 


Uncle Ely was saying. He stopped the car and trailer 
at a railroad crossing, made sure no train was in sight, 
then crossed the tracks. Soon he continued his true 
story about grizzlies. 

'The biggest grizzlies might weigh up to two thou¬ 
sand pounds—think of it—two thousand pounds! 
Usually they were nearer eight hundred or twelve 
hundred, but even that was enough to whip anything 
else in the wilds. 

“They were absolutely unafraid, until man invent¬ 
ed some high-powered rifles that could kill at long 
range. They would run from nothing, and if both¬ 
ered they would show fight at once. All they asked 
was to be let alone.” 

Father interrupted him at this point. 

“You keep saying 'were , 1 Ely. Are there no more 
grizzlies?” 

“Oh, yes, a few. A few in the wilder sections, 
especially up in Canada. I understand that several 
have been seen lately in our Rocky Mountain wilder¬ 
ness, where there are no towns or villages for many 
miles. But too many of them have been uselessly 
slain. It is a shame to see such fine animals killed . 11 

“Could we ever see a live grizzly, Uncle Ely ? 11 
asked Buck. 



■ 


































































. 






' 















. 


























































THE BEAR 


127 


“We would have to ride perhaps for days and 
days, on horseback, to find a wild one. Then we 
might have to turn tail and run for our lives.” 

The children laughed. This sounded as though it 
might be fun, but probably it wouldn’t be in real life. 

“I should like to have a baby one for a pet,” said 
Ginger. “What do bears eat, Uncle Ely?” 

“Almost anything. A grizzly would kill a bison, 
in the old days, and eat its flesh. Or he would spend 
hours picking up ants or berries and tender buds. 

“Of course there are no wild bison left for grizzlies 
to kill now, but a grizzly today might kill a horse or 
cow, or a deer. He would be especially glad to find 
a hollow tree in which bees had stored their honey. 
He will let the bees sting him in order to get the 
sweet. He can catch fish by snatching them from 
brooks and lakes. He will dig out little animals that 
burrow in the ground, and catch field mice. And he 
will always eat the berries or buds. 

“In fact he eats, and eats, and eats all summer, then 
goes to bed in winter, very fat. His long winter sleep 
is called ‘hibernation.’ He lives on his stored fat 
while he sleeps. His bed may be a cave or hollow 
tree, or almost any place where the snow can make a 
blanket. 


128 


WILD AMERICANS 


“Cubs will be born to the mother bear during the 
winter. In spring she will lead them out, all very 
hungry. They will grow fast, and soon learn to take 
care of themselves. They like to romp and wrestle 
and play as puppies do." 

Toward sunset that day, the travelers entered am 
other of the great national parks, where the scenery 
was especially grand. The party made camp under 
towering trees, and not far away was a mountain 
cliff that seemed to reach right up into the clouds. 
As soon as the car and trailer stopped, Buck and Guv 
ger jumped out and started to explore. They were 
out of sight in no time. 

Father and Uncle Ely were busy starting a camp- 
fire, because the air was chilly. Mother was making 
biscuit dough to cook in a Dutch oven. Everyone 
was feeling fine. 

Suddenly the three grown people heard a scream. 

Mother held her breath in alarm—she knew that 
was Ginger's scream. They heard Buck's voice in the 
woods. “Go away!" he shouted. “Go away, let us 
alone! Run, Sister!" 

Something terrible must be happening! In a flash 
Uncle Ely and Father jumped up and ran toward the 
woods. They hadn't gone far when Ginger ap- 


THE BEAR 


129 


peared, running down the trail toward them. 

Not far behind her came Buck. He would stop 
every few feet and "shoo" at something. Once he 
threw a rock at it. Then the something itself ap' 
peared—it was a real live bear. 

Mother saw the bear and shrieked. She caught 
Ginger in her arms. Father caught Buck by the hand, 
and all four of them dashed into the car trailer. 

Uncle Ely, however, stopped running. He stood 
still and looked at the bear. 

The animal stopped, too, then came up to Uncle 
Ely and sniffed. 

Next the bear ambled over to the automobile, 
stood up on his hind legs and sniffed again. Uncle 
Ely fumbled in a box, took out a slice of bacon and 
pitched it to the animal, who sat down in a friendly 
manner and ate it. 

"Everything's all right now. He's just a tame 
bear," Uncle Ely called. "This is not a grimly, it's 
a young brown bear. He wasn't going to hurt any' 
body, he's too tame. Just wanted to beg some food." 

Soon the brown bear went on his way to visit other 
tourists, and everyone laughed again about the ad' 
venture. Mother and Ginger were still a little fright' 
ened, however. 


130 


WILD AMERICANS 


Just at bedtime that night Uncle Ely spoke to them 
all. “I am going to change our travel route just a 
little,” he began, “so we can stop over in that next 
big city for an extra day. I want to take these chil¬ 
dren to a zoo. It is a shame for any American boy 
and girl to grow up and not see a live grizzly bear 
and know him when they see him. We can all learn 
a great deal and have a good time as well.” 












Chapter XVIII 

THE SQUIRREL: A Friendly Robber 

“Mother, isn’t it time to eat yet?” 

Ginger and Buck Blair kept teasing. The family 
had gone for a picnic in the wild woods, resting again 
from car travel, and had left the lunch in a big basket 
hanging on a tree limb while they were hiking. At 
length Mother admitted that it was time for lunch. 

But when they returned and took the basket down. 
Mother found a surprise. 

“Why, look here!” she exclaimed. “Someone has 


131 


132 


WILD AMERICANS 


been in our lunch! The food has been nibbled and 
moved about!" 

Everyone looked. The sandwiches had been tom. 
Pieces of cake had been bitten off. A big sack of 
peanuts, which mother had put in for the children, 
was almost empty. Even the sack had been nibbled. 

“Aha ! 11 exclaimed Uncle Ely then. “I have an idea 
who is guilty. There's a thief in the woods . 11 

“A thief ? 11 Buck was excited about it. 

“Yes! Look up into this tree carefully, and I think 
we shall see the thief, maybe several of them. Up 
there on the trunk, with only his head peeping 
around at us? That's the thief!" 

“It's a squirrel!" said Ginger. 

“That's right," said Uncle Ely. “Look, children, 
I see two more. See them scampering along the high 
limbs? See their great bushy tails?" 

“Yes, sir, but I didn't know squirrels would take 
things from picnic baskets," Ginger added. “I never 
saw one outside of a zoo before. Are these really wild 
squirrels, Uncle Ely?" 

“Surely. They run wild in the forest here. But 
they may not be very much afraid of people, if they 
haven't been shot at. Let's move off a little way to 
eat what they have left for us. Then, if we put some 


























































































































































THE SQUIRREL 


135 


food on the ground, they may soon come for it.” 

Mother changed that plan, however. She took 
most of the good food out, and left some bits in the 
basket, all hanging on the same limb as before. Then 
the family sat down several feet from the tree. Buck 
was soon munching a thick cheese sandwich. 

“Look!” He pointed, trying to talk with his mouth 
full. Mother frowned at him and Buck swallowed 
before he spoke again. “Look! There comes one.” 

A sleek gray fellow, almost as large as a cat and 
proudly waving a fluffy tail as long as his body, dart" 
ed down the tree trunk and into the basket. Once 
he stood up to peer over the edge of the basket at 
the people. Then down went his head for a moment 
and in a flash he was up the tree again carrying a 
mouthful of food. 

“He has a peanut!” Ginger whispered. “See? He 
is sitting up, eating it. Isn’t he pretty?” 

“Yes,” agreed Mother in a whisper. 

At that moment, however, another squirrel came 
along, saw the first one with the peanut, and at once 
darted up and grabbed it. 

Squeaks, chattering, and the noise of fighting fob 
lowed. Both squirrels were angry. The nut fell to 
the ground while they snapped at each other. The 


136 


WILD AMERICANS 


fight lasted but a few seconds, however, and both 
furry creatures darted away. 

Meantime still a third one had seen the nut fall, 
and he promptly scampered over the ground near it. 
Then he became cautious. He ran behind the tree 
trunk for a moment and peeped around at the pic' 
nickers. They remained motionless, just looking, so 
the squirrel came to the nut. There he paused once 
more to look at the people, sitting on his haunches to 
do so, his fluffy tail curved in a beautiful arch. 

His waiting cost him the nut, because as he stood 
up a fourth squirrel, more daring, ran across the 
ground, snatched the nut and was back up the tree 
in a flash. 

“Goodness!” exclaimed Mother, as the people all 
laughed. “They move like lightning, don’t they?” 

While Father built a campfire to roast some sau¬ 
sages on sticks, Uncle Ely told the children about 
squirrels. 

“You see they are good picnic pals,” he began. 
“Squirrels are naturally friendly to men, if men do 
not harm them. If we stayed here long, they would 
learn to come right up to our hands and take food. 
I have had them climb onto my shoulders, and prowl 
in my coat pockets. Of course, this was when I had 


THE SQUIRREL 


137 


fed them many times, and they were very tame." 

“Do they eat all the time, Uncle Ely?" Buck asked. 

“No. They store much of their food for winter. 
In hollow trees, knot holes, burrows, or other hiding 
places, you can find the squirrels" winter storehouses. 
Acorns and wild nuts of all kinds are hidden there. 
In winter food may be hard to find. Then the squir¬ 
rels eat what they have stored during summer and 
fall." 

Buck walked slowly under the nearby trees, and 
presently said that not all of the squirrels were alike. 
Some had darker fur than others. 

“There are several kinds of squirrels,"" Uncle Ely 
explained. “Some are gray, some are more nearly 
brown or red, some nearly black, and some have 
larger tails than others. All of them are what we 
call gnawers. That is, they gnaw their food, as do 
gophers and beavers. They have sharp little claws 
which help them to climb, and to hold food while 
they eat. Did you notice how they held the nuts and 
other tidbits to their mouths with their front feet?"" 

“Yes, sir," said Ginger. 

“All squirrels eat that way. Their jaws and teeth 
are very strong. They can crack hard nuts that you 
could not crack with your teeth."" 


138 


WILD AMERICANS 


Billy Buck was watching the little animals at play 
up in the trees. He appeared to be very thoughtful. 

“Are squirrels found everywhere, Uncle Ely?” he 
asked. 

“Yes, just about everywhere in our United States.” 




Chapter XIX 

THE WOLVERENE: A Mean Northerner 

The air was crisp with autumn chill. The horses 
were not sweating, and his own woolen sweater felt 
comfortable, Billy Buck noticed. This was the North 
Country, near the great Dominion of Canada. Buck 
and Ginger and Uncle Ely were riding in a forest of 
tall evergreen trees when they came unexpectedly 
onto a log cabin. At once they were interested, be¬ 
cause they saw a huge man with a black beard feed¬ 
ing an animal in a cage. 

“ ’Alio!” called the man in friendly fashion. 


139 




140 


WILD AMERICANS 


“Hello,” the three riders answered. “What have 
you there, a bear?” Uncle Ely asked the question, 
dismounting. 

The dark man grinned. 

“Come, I show you,” he invited. “This the bes' 
wild fellow in all the North. The meanest animal. 
He ver' mean, but we lak him. I catch the baby one, 
two years ago. Keep him in the cage here. I am 
name Pierre. And you?” 

When introductions were over, the group walked 
over to study the caged beast. 

“Doesn't look exactly like a bear,” said Buck. 

“No, not bear,” Pierre said. “Carcajou.” 

“Car—what did you say?” 

“Carcajou, we call him in Canada. The Americans 
say wolverene. But he does look lak the bear.” 

Pierre squatted before the cage and held Ginger 
on his knee. The animal was snarling at them. 

“Eve heard of wolverenes,” Uncle Ely said, “but 
never saw one before. You say he is very mean?” 

“Oof, he is meanest beast!” Pierre snapped. “All 
the time I have the trouble with him and his kind. 
I set traps for animals with good fur to sell. But this 
carcajou—this wolverene—he take the bait, throw 
the trap and break it. 


THE WOLVERENE 


141 


“If the trap catch something, the wolverene maybe 
eat the animal it catch before I get there. He eat any' 
thing. He tear into the black bear and whip him. 
Look—I make him snarl, so you see his great teeth 
and jaws.” 

Pierre kicked the iron cage and the wolverene 
crouched ready to fight. Its teeth appeared to be as 
long and strong as those in a lion’s mouth. It had 
sharp claws, too. One could easily see how so fierce 
a creature might fight. 

“Do they kill people?” Buck asked. 

“No. They do not attack man,” Pierre said. “But 
they steal from him. They steal his bait and his catch 
in the traps, and they steal from his house lak bun 
glar. Come, I show you.” 

Pierre took them to a comer of his house, the con 
ner of what must have been the kitchen. There, near 
the ground, sections of old logs had been replaced 
by new ones. It was plain that a hole had been cut 
through the old logs, for their ends were jagged and 
the sides of others were uneven and gnawed. 

“Once in there I have sack of flour, much bacon, 
beans, canned foods and clothing. I get ready for 
winter time, when I cannot come out easily for sup- 
plies that I need. I make the log cabin strong, and 


142 


WILD AMERICANS 


lock it tight. Then I go away for two day, to set my 
traps. 

“When I come back —voila (you see)! The flour, 
bacon, beans, they all scatter outside! Some is eat, 
some is just waste. I do not need them to tell me, but 
I see tracks, and know wolverene has been here. I 
could not see how he get in, but I learn he gnaw and 
cut through even the big logs, to make hole into my 
food cache. 

“Inside my cabin, he ver’ mean. Many things he 
just tear up and ruin. What he cannot eat he try to 
destroy. I do not know why. He ver’ mean, this 
carcajou.'” 

The three visitors studied the repaired cabin, then 
went back with Pierre to look again at the wolverene. 
The beast had beautiful dark fur, long and thick as 
northern animals’ fur must be in order to protect 
them from the long cold winters. His ears were 
small, his tail short and bushy. He was about the 
size of a large bulldog. 

“Why do you keep this one for a pet, Mr. Pierre?” 
asked Buck. “I should think you would hate woh 
verenes.” 

“It is foolish to hate animals, my little friend. They 
do only what Nature teach them. It is man’s business 


THE WOLVERENE 


143 


to protect himself, lak Nature teach us to do, riest - 
ce pas (isn’t that so)?” 

“Now that's a thought, Buck!” Uncle Ely said, 
with enthusiasm. 

“The carcajou—we trappers make game with him. 
He is hard to fool. But we have to try, or we catch 
no fur to sell. Sometimes we catch him. I have not 
catch many. But they teach me things. I no longer 
cache food in plain log cabin, in carcajou country. I 
keep it inside logs, but in metal boxes too. This ani¬ 
mal ver’ mean, but ver’ smart, too.” 

“I can see why you admire him and respect him, 
even though he causes you trouble,” Uncle Ely said. 
“I should say the wolverene is a really important wild 
citizen.” 

“ Oui, monsieur (yes, sir), he is. He is the best— 
and the worst—northern animal, we think. All out¬ 
door people up here know him and—what you say? 
—respec’ him. He is one fine North American.” 

“That’s the thought, Pierre! One fine North 
American! Many thanks for introducing us to the 
wolverene. Are you ready to ride on, children?” 

“Yes,” said Ginger, “and I am going to tell Mother 
we saw an animal that was both very bad and very 
fine. Good-by, Mr. Pierre.” 



Chapter XX 

THE LYNX: A Wilderness Cat 

Buck and Ginger were staring at something in 
great surprise and not a little fear. They were in a 
forest. 

"It looks too big for a pet kitty," Buck whispered 
to his sister. 

"But it's some kind of animal, Buck, I know! Do 
you think we had better run ?' 1 

Buck didn't answer, but the animal did. 

"Gr-r^gr^r!" 

"Goodness!" muttered Ginger. "Don't you think 
we had better go?" 


144 




THE LYNX 


145 


The animal was several feet from them. It was 
crouched in shadows beside some rocks and shrub' 
bery on the mountain slope. The two children had 
been out hiking, although not far from camp, when 
they had suddenly heard a “Gr-r'r'r-r!” nearby. Their 
curiosity had been aroused. 

“It isn't very large,’’ said Buck. “It won’t hurt us 
if we just look at it. Maybe it is a cat.’’ 

“It looks like a cat, but it’s larger.” 

“Yes, and see what wild eyes it has!” 

“They look like—like goblin eyes on Hallowe’en,” 
agreed Ginger. “I wish Uncle Ely were here.” 

“You go and get him,” suggested Buck. “I will stay 
nearby and see what the animal does.” 

It wasn’t long until Ginger was back with Uncle 
Ely. They all moved cautiously, not so much in fear 
of the beast, as in fear of frightening it away so they 
couldn’t have a good look at it. They talked in low 
tones. 

“Oh, yes, now I see it,” said Uncle Ely, after study' 
ing the shadows. “That’s a lynx.” 

“A—what 7 ” 

“A lynx, better known as bobcat or wildcat.” 

“Oh! Then it is a cat!” Ginger said. “We thought 
it looked like one.” 


146 


WILD AMERICANS 


“But this one is wild, not like the house cats , 11 ex- 
plained Uncle Ely. “It is much larger and stronger . 11 

“Will he hurt us ? 11 

“He could, but he won't. Wildcats are afraid of 
people, but if you cornered this one or caught him 
with your hands, you would have some lively scratch- 
ing and biting . 11 

“He growled at us awfully, Uncle Ely ! 11 Ginger 
was still awed. 

The three moved a bit closer to the cat's lair, back 
in the shadows, and instantly a menacing snarl and 
growl of warning was heard. 

“That's cat talk, all right," Uncle Ely said. “But 
he wouldn't act as dangerous as he sounds. If we get 
any closer, he will spring out and run for his life. He 
would — 11 

Uncle Ely never finished. 

Spitting and yowling, the beast leaped from the 
ground and rushed past the three people. 

Ginger screamed. Quick as lightning Uncle Ely 
jumped in front of the two children. Buck was white 
with fear, but he made no sound. 

In a second the cat was several feet above them, in 
a tree. 

He made a beautiful picture there, his warm red- 


THE LYNX 


147 


dish brown color showing distinctly against the green 
leaves. He had leaped with the grace and ease that 
only a cat can show. He crouched again, there on 
the limb, still growling his warning, stealing quick 
glances right and left as if ready to flee again, but 
watching the three people below closely. 

“I believe it must be a female, 1 ’ said Uncle Ely. 
“She may have a den back in those rocks, and there 
may be kittens. Otherwise she would take no chances 
on our shooting her; she would have run away ah 
ready . 11 

“Wildcat kittens ! 11 exclaimed Ginger, no longer 
frightened. “I wish we could see them. Are they as 
beautiful as she is, Uncle Ely ? 11 

“No, not quite. You see she has many black spots 
on her fur, which is thick and long. She looks some- 
thing like a lion. The babies are cute, but they squirm 
a great deal, as all little kittens do—until they begin 
to grow up, I mean . 11 

While the children watched the mother lynx Un¬ 
cle Ely began hunting around the rocks and bushes. 
He could see several openings or caves among the 
rocks, but they were too small for him to enter. He 
did look carefully for tracks, however. 

Buck and Ginger soon joined him in the search. 


148 


WILD AMERICANS 


They began to peer under other brush and shrubs, 
moving in a circle about the shadowy place where 
they had found the mother. Ginger moved out of the 
heavy shadows. She climbed up on some larger rocks 
into the open sunshine. 

“Oh ! 11 she suddenly called. “Here they are ! 11 

The man and boy hastened to her. 

Sure enough, two kittens lay in the sun, tiny little 
creatures, but larger than tame kittens. They stopped 
playing when the people came near, and one of them 
growled as his mother had done. 

“Stout fellow ! 11 admired Uncle Ely. “Brave, isn't 
he? He says we'll have a fight on our hands if we 
interrupt his play." 

Ginger wanted to pick up one and cuddle it, but 
she didn't dare. She knew their tiny claws and teeth 
were very sharp. 

At length Uncle Ely suggested that they leave. 

“No need to annoy the wild family," he explained. 
“They are all trembling in fear. Most men would kill 
them, and they have come to hate man." 

“Tell us about wildcats, please, Uncle Ely?" plead' 
ed Buck. “You never mentioned them before." 

“I'm sorry, I meant to. Em surprised we haven't 
found one before this, with all the hiking we have 


lllgpll«Mpg|§f 






































THE LYNX 


151 


been doing. These animals are found in all parts of 
the United States, wherever there is a wilderness for 
them, although man has been killing them as he has 
other wild creatures. 

“They do not live in Mexico, or in warm countries 
to any extent. Canada has one kind of wildcat, with 
tips of pointed fur on its ears, and extremely large, 
wild-looking eyes. It is called a ghost cat because it 
appears so frightening at times. The wildcat most 
common in the United States is the one we have just 
seen—a bay lynx.” 

Buck asked, “What is the difference between a 
lynx, a bobcat and a wildcat, Uncle Ely?” 

“Not much difference! People in different parts of 
the country have different names for him. Some¬ 
times the cat will have darker fur, sometimes many 
spots, and sometimes none. But all of them are 
lynxes.” 

Ginger was still thinking about the kittens. She 
remembered that her mother cat at home often had 
five or six kittens at a time, usually making a nest in 
their basement. 

“Do you suppose that mother had only twin ba¬ 
bies, Uncle Ely? Maybe there were more.” 

“No, I think not. Wildcats usually have just two.” 


152 


WILD AMERICANS 


“Does she nurse them, the way my cat nurses her 
babies? I mean, feed them milk, and wash their faces, 
and smooth their fur and all ? 11 

“Yes, indeed! Wild mothers are no less devoted 
than tame ones, until the babies are able to fend for 
themselves. The wild kittens soon learn to hunt for 
their own food. These animals are meat eaters. They 
catch squirrels and rabbits, field mice, a few birds, 
and such small game. They are skilled at stalking, 
as all cats are; they can move so silently that the 
smaller animal doesn't know danger is near until too 
late . 11 

“Do these animals ever grow any larger, Uncle 
Ely? I mean, as large as the mountain lion we 
caught ? 11 Buck remembered the adventure of the lion 
hunt. 

“No, not that large. Both the lynx and the moun¬ 
tain lion are members of the cat family, and so are 
closely related, but the lion is much larger. The big¬ 
gest lynx I ever heard of was killed by President 
Theodore Roosevelt. It weighed thirty-nine pounds. 
I imagine they grow a little larger sometimes, but 
most of them weigh approximately twenty pounds. 
They are about the sise of a small dog . 11 

“Um , 11 murmured Buck. Suddenly the boy was 


THE LYNX 


153 


grinning to himself. Uncle Ely looked furtively at 
him for a few seconds. 

“What’s on your mind now, Buck?” he asked. “I 
can see mischief in your eyes.” 

“Nothing, sir. Only—I was just thinking about a 
dog at home. He chases cats all the time. I would 
like him to meet a grown wildcat, just once!” 

Uncle Ely laughed heartily. 




Chapter XXI 

THE OPOSSUM: A Night-Roaming Animal 

One day when the Blair car and trailer had rolled 
down into the southern states, where great fields of 
cotton were to be seen, Uncle Ely planned an adven- 
ture for the children. He left camp one night soon 
after supper, and came back an hour later. 

“I have planned a night hunt for us , 11 he an¬ 
nounced. "Several colored people are coming with 
their dogs at nine o’clock. We are to join them here.” 

"What are we to hunt, Uncle Ely?” asked Buck, 
who was already excited. 


154 



THE OPOSSUM 


155 


“The Negroes’ favorite animal, one of the most 
interesting of all wild Americans. And the one with 
the strangest family, I think.” 

“Goodness!” Ginger said. “Tell us about him.” 

“No, not yet. I want you to see him first. But I 
will tell you his name. It is 'opossum , 1 sometimes 
called just plain ’possum.” 

“Why do we hunt him at night? Won’t we stum¬ 
ble over things?” 

“We might stumble; but this is a night-roaming 
animal, and the Negroes’ dogs can scent his trail bet¬ 
ter. I promise it will be fun.” 

And so it was! The children were excited over the 
barking hounds, and the six Negroes carrying pine- 
knot torches as the group walked through the woods. 

When the dogs found the opossum’s trail and fol¬ 
lowed it to a persimmon tree, Buck was permitted to 
climb the tree and shake him out. “Go right on up, 
Buck,” Uncle Ely had encouraged him. “He won’t 
hurt you. Just shake him down.” 

Buck climbed high. When he saw the small dark 
form out on a limb, Buck grabbed the limb and shook. 
Nothing happened. 

“Shake hard, Mistuh Billy Buck; shake ’im out,” 
the Negroes shouted encouragement. 


156 


WILD AMERICANS 


Buck gave the limb a tremendous jerking and shak' 
ing, and sure enough, down the animal tumbled. It 
struck some bushy limbs as it dropped and really fell 
but a short distance from the last limb to the ground. 
The Negroes were shouting and laughing. The dogs 
barked wildly and were ordered back. Buck climbed 
down as fast as he could. 

There on the ground, in the light of the torches, 
lay what appeared to be an animal similar to a giant 
rat, larger than a cat, all curled up and lying very 
still. 

“Aw'W'W, he’s dead!” Ginger mourned. “I want' 
ed to see him alive.” 

“He not daid, honey,” one old man assured her. 
“He just c sullin.’ ” 

“He’s what?” asked Buck. 

Uncle Ely answered this time. 

“The ’possum is just playing dead, children,” said 
Uncle Ely. “He really isn’t hurt. He will always pre' 
tend to be dead when his enemies are near, and he is 
one of the few beasts in the world which have this 
method of defense. He hopes we will think him dead, 
and so go away and leave him alone. Most of his 
natural enemies, even dogs that aren’t trained, would 
do so.” 


THE OPOSSUM 


157 


“Well!" exclaimed Buck. “I never heard of that 
before. I think he is a wise animal." 

The opossum had long gray bristling hair, a long 
nose like a rat's, and a peculiar long tail with no fur 
on it. 

“Uncle Ely," Buck suddenly thought of something, 
'do you know what I saw? This opossum hung by 
his tail, as a monkey does, before I shook him down." 

“That's right. Very few animals can do that, too." 

Suddenly the dogs yowled a few feet away. A 
Negro ran to them. 

“Heah's de old mammy 'possum and all de chillun!" 
the Negro shouted gleefully. “De dawgs found 'em 
in a hollow stump! Whoop-eee!" 

Everyone ran over to see the family. Torches were 
held so they would throw light on this new find. 
There crouched a mother opossum, with a dozen or 
more babies, no bigger than small rats, clinging to 
her back and sides! But the queerest thing was the 
way they used their tails. The mother's tail was 
curled up over her back and the babies' tails were 
wrapped around it to help them hold on! Ginger 
giggled in high excitement. Buck jumped up and 
down, laughing with the colored folk. 

This mother opossum didn't “sull," as the Ne- 


158 


WILD AMERICANS 


groes would say. She was snarling, ready to fight for 
her babies, although she also appeared to be very 
much afraid. 

“Let's not bother her too much," suggested Uncle 
Ely. “The babies need her." 

“Sho' do," one Negro agreed. “We let her go 'bout 
her business." 

As they watched, the mother began to edge away, 
carrying her family of young on her back. As she 
stretched up to climb a tree, Buck quickly pointed. 

“Look! Look!" he exclaimed. “On the front of her 
body. Two more babies are peeping out of a front 
pouch, with just their heads showing!" 

It was true. Everyone saw it. The babies in the 
soft hairy pouch appeared much smaller than the 
ones on top of the mother. 

“Sho', she do dat," the oldest colored man ex¬ 
plained. “She carry two sets of chillun at once. De 
bigges' ones, dey rides up in de observation car on 
top. De littles' ones, dey rides down in de Pullman 
berths, whar dey can sleep all dey pleases." 

“That's right," said Uncle Ely. “Opossums raise 
a great many babies. The mother may be carrying 
two families at the same time. See how she climbs 
with them? There she goes, out of sight among the 


THE OPOSSUM 


159 


limbs and leaves up in the trees. She will eat ripe pen 
simmons when we go away.” 

The party started back to the first tree, where they 
had left the first fat opossum on the ground. But 
when the people got there he was gone! 

"I tole you so! I knowed he’d do dat!” cried the 
oldest Negro angrily. “Aw shuh, we done got so 
het up looking at de mammy and chillun, we forgot 
all ’bout dis one! Now he done quit sullin’ and run 
off. Aw shuh!” 






























































































LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



000c?55554fc>b 






















